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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638783">Finding belonging</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope_J/pseuds/Hope_J'>Hope_J</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Platonic Relationships, Protectiveness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:34:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope_J/pseuds/Hope_J</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy, a self-proclaimed Slytherin who got sorted into Gryffindor, desires to be alone. </p><p>Tubbo, a Ravenclaw who doesn't belong, just wants to get through Hogwarts in peace. </p><p>(Set in the Harry Potter universe, where the golden trio is in 3rd year when Tommy and Tubbo enter Hogwarts as 1st years.)</p><p>Disclaimer: This book is entirely based on my interpretations of the online personas of the minecraft youtubers and is not in any way meant to create illusions of their real personalities. (Hence, why I use their minecraft usernames instead of their real names.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>963</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! So I know wholesome week is going on to wash out the very sad things in this fandom, and I got inspired to try writing a Harry Potter AU for their friendship. I have no idea how long this is going to be, and this is also my first time writing so I apologise for any grammatical errors (especially since no one else has proof-read this.) This fic is strictly a platonic fic, there are no romantic relationships in here, except maybe for the ones in the canon Harry Potter story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy was looking for an empty compartment.</p><p><br/>
He had been, to no success, as he was forced to drag himself into the emptiest compartment so far – one with a quiet boy who was too preoccupied with his book to look up. He sighed, curse Wilbur and his forgetfulness, who had caused them to be later than usual, thus ruining his conquest for an empty room he could claim for his own.</p><p>Tommy sighed again, stretching himself out over the plush seat and sizing up the boy in front of him. He looked small enough to push over easily, and Tommy wondered if he could physically force this boy out of the compartment. See, this was Tommy’s first year in the Hogwarts Express, and Tommy had planned great things for his reputation at Hogwarts, one of which was to establish himself as an alpha male. He had planned to practice this by dominating a compartment and prohibiting others from entering, just so they could remember his unrelenting alpha stare. However, kicking a harmless boy out seemed a little too cruel – he wanted to be respected, not hated.</p><p><br/>
Tommy supposed he should start a conversation.</p><p><br/>
“Hello, I don’t know who you are, but would you mind going to another compartment?” Tommy asked bluntly but rather politely, trying his luck.</p><p><br/>
“Why do you want me to go to another compartment?” The boy in question closed his book, looked up and stared blankly.</p><p><br/>
“I want to be alone here.” Tommy replied.</p><p><br/>
“So did I,” the other boy remarked dryly, his stare unwavering, “Until you came along.”</p><p><br/>
“Why you little piece of sh-,” Tommy got out before he was up and tackling the other boy, enraged. They were nearly the same height, and neither were very strong, so Tommy could only attempt to hold the boy down as he scrambled out of Tommy’s grasp, breathing heavily.</p><p><br/>
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-“ the other boy stuttered, a complete antithesis to his previous behavior, as he rushed to his luggage, stuffed the book inside and stumbled out of the door. It closed firmly, and Tommy was left sitting on the edge of his seat, his mouth agape.</p><p><br/>
He smiled, that was confusing, but easy.</p><p><br/>
--</p><p><br/>
After politely preventing (standing at the door and glaring at them until they ran away) other first years from entering his compartment, Tommy was feeling a little braver. That was, until he stepped out of the train and saw said first years looking at him warily, Tommy felt even more confident, his plan was working out perfectly!</p><p><br/>
He was ushered into a boat by a giant man, with two other first years and the brown haired boy he saw earlier, who flinched upon seeing him. Tommy frowned but chose not to comment. It wasn’t like he was actually going to <em>hurt</em> him, Tommy liked to threaten, but didn’t like to harm people.</p><p><br/>
Absently he wondered what house he would be sorted into. Tommy felt that he belonged in Slytherin, the house which had his cool brother Wilbur, and the house that best suited his desire to be alone. He absolutely despised Gryffindor, which seemed to contain the most pompous, popular and preposterous people, who liked to flaunt their courage by doing stupid things. Such a perception had been gained by the stories Wilbur had told him, of Harry Potter being incredibly impulsive and Dumbledore being completely tolerant towards the shenanigans of the Gryffindor.</p><p>Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were fine to him, but he felt his personality didn’t suit Hufflepuff because he was loyal to no one but himself (or maybe Wilbur and Phil, but he would never admit that), and wasn’t bright enough to be in Ravenclaw.</p><p><br/>
It wasn’t long before they had to get off the boats, and were led by McGonagall to the great hall. Tommy had to admit he felt a little nervous, when he entered the hall and saw the long tables filled with people, with different coloured tablecloths, scrutinising the first years and mumbling amongst themselves. McGonagall’s introductory words were ignored as he spotted Wilbur at the green tables, who gave him a reassuring smile and patted the empty spot next to him, mouthing come join me here. Tommy knew then and there that he really, really wanted to be in Slytherin.</p><p><br/>
“Simons, Tubbo!”</p><p><br/>
Tommy watched as the brown-haired boy from earlier walked forward hesitantly. He was placed in Ravenclaw, to the surprise of Tommy who had expected him to be in Hufflepuff. The boy, Tubbo, looked surprised too.</p><p><br/>
“Soot, Tommy!”</p><p><br/>
Tommy walked up to the hat, and the moment it was placed on his head, wished for Slytherin.</p><p><br/>
“Hmm, are you sure?” a small voice in his ear startled him, “You’ve got plenty of knowledge I see, a good head on your shoulders, some ambition too…”</p><p>Tommy felt hope blossom in his chest. Wasn’t Slytherin the house for those with ambition?</p><p>“But most importantly, you would do anything to protect those that you love.” The hat murmured so quickly and quietly Tommy had to strain his ears to hear it. Before he could protest-</p><p>“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat declared. The hat was lifted off his head, and Tommy’s eyes were blinded by the brightness of the outside environment. His head was spinning and his heart was thudding quickly, as adrenaline coursed through his blood. No, no I don’t belong in Gryffindor, he thought, as he desperately spun around to face McGonagall.</p><p><br/>
“Is there a way for me to try again?” he begged, ignoring the stares of the rest of the people burning into his back. The cheers at the Gryffindor table died down.</p><p><br/>
“The hat is never wrong,” McGonagall replied, before she gently but firmly pushed him towards the Gryffindor table.</p><p><br/>
As he sat down at the Gryffindor table, he met the eyes of Wilbur at the Slytherin table, who looked surprised. He smiled at Tommy, before turning back to his meal, as if there was nothing wrong about the situation.</p><p><br/>
Tommy fumed, and ignored the people around him that were trying to strike up a conversation.</p><p><br/>
--</p><p><br/>
Two weeks later, Tommy was still trying to get used to the school. He stuck out like a sore thumb within his Gryffindor classmates, who were largely friendly, welcoming and loud. Conversely, he was quiet, cutting and rude, but at least this had allowed him to be alone. His classmates had given up trying to make friends with him by the end of the first week, when all they could elicit from him were a few harsh, well-placed remarks. At least they didn’t resort to beating him, just like his classmates in elementary school did.</p><p><br/>
(Although, if he heard a few remarks now and then about how he was secretly a Slytherin that bewitched the sorting hat to place him in Gryffindor, he ignored them. He didn’t feel like he belonged in this house either.)</p><p><br/>
He had potions with Hufflepuff, Transfiguration with Slytherin, and Herbology and Charms with Ravenclaw. For a majority of his classes he managed to secure a table for himself at the back, with the exception of Herbology, where they were mostly forced to work in pairs. He found himself working with Tubbo from Ravenclaw, because none of his Gryffindor counterparts wanted to work with him. He wondered why the Ravenclaws were avoiding Tubbo, since he seemed well-mannered and nice, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much.</p><p><br/>
(Admittedly, Tubbo had been carrying himself weirdly for the past few days, limping slightly and avoiding the use of his left hand at all costs. Tommy wasn’t dumb, he’d experienced fights with bullies before, which he’d eventually solved on his own by fighting back. He expected Tubbo to do the same.)</p><p><br/>
Tubbo and Tommy had started off working in relative silence, but after awhile Tubbo had tried to strike up a conversation.</p><p><br/>
“Do you think bees react the same way to magical plants as they do to normal plants?” Tubbo remarked, while snipping off the leaves as Professor Sprout had instructed.</p><p><br/>
Tommy let out a non-committal hum. He wasn’t really interested in conversation.</p><p><br/>
“Perhaps they do, perhaps when they receive the nectar, they turn magical. Or maybe there are already normal bees and bee-wizards-”</p><p><br/>
Tommy snorted and started laughing. For some reason, the phrase sounded extremely funny.</p><p><br/>
“Right, and the bee wizards can see the magical plants and the normal bees can’t. Why are you laughing? I’m being perfectly serious.” Tubbo said, but started to smile despite himself.</p><p><br/>
“Bee-wizards? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.” Tommy said between wheezes, “And you’re supposed to be a Ravenclaw.”</p><p><br/>
In a flash, the smile on Tubbo’s face completely vanished. He turned away from Tommy and continued cutting his leaves, conversation dropped. Tommy was confused. Though, Tommy liked silence, so he made no comment and the two proceeded to work quietly.</p><p><br/>
--</p><p><br/>
A week later, and Wilbur started to notice Tommy’s friends, or lack thereof. He pulled Tommy aside when he bumped into him a corridor.</p><p><br/>
“Tommy, where are your friends?” Wilbur hissed, as he kept a firm grip on his younger brother’s shoulder to prevent him from escaping the interrogation.</p><p><br/>
“I don’t need friends,” Tommy replied stubbornly, “I’m not making friends with <em>Gryffindors</em>.”</p><p><br/>
“Tommy, you know what I said about them was out of spite because we lost the house cup to them right… Tommy, they’re good people. Harry Potter is a good person. Now listen, things in Hogwarts… they aren’t as safe as they were before Harry Potter arrived, and odd things keep on happening in this school.” Wilbur said, frowning seriously.</p><p><br/>
“What?” Tommy questioned, “You assured Father and Mother that it was perfectly safe!”</p><p><br/>
“Just last year,” Wilbur continued, “People were petrified in these hallways. Turned to stone. Of course, they were healed, but there’s no telling what will happen this year. Already, a prisoner from Azkaban has been released, and is rumoured to be after Harry.”</p><p><br/>
“I-”</p><p><br/>
“Which is why I can’t have you alone Tommy, you need someone to look out for you, and I can’t be looking out for you all the time because we have completely different timetables. Tommy, for the sake of your safety, go and make some friends. Am I clear?”</p><p><br/>
“I… yes Wilbur.” Tommy conceded. There was no arguing with Wilbur when he spoke in that tone, and the idea of people being petrified scared Tommy.</p><p><br/>
As Tommy returned to his classroom, he was filled with dread. The school was dangerous, and he needed people to look out for him. But <em>whoever</em> was going to be willing to make friends with him now?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(I edited the end notes)</p><p>Short introduction to characters:<br/>Tommy: First-year Gryffindor<br/>Tubbo: First-year Ravenclaw<br/>Niki: Second-year Hufflepuff<br/>Wilbur: Third-year Slytherin<br/>Sapnap: Third-year Gryffindor<br/>Dream: Third-year Slytherin<br/>Eret: Third-year Hufflepuff<br/>Fundy: Third-year Ravenclaw<br/>George enters as a transfer student in the next year, he will be sorted into Ravenclaw.<br/>Technoblade: Fourth-year Ravenclaw<br/>Phil: Seventh-year Hufflepuff.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy isn't alone anymore, but he finds he doesn't dislike it as much as he thought he would.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay so I realised I made a big mistake in the first chapter which was that I completely forgot about dementors ambushing the train in the third book... Let's just pretend that they only hit the compartments near the one containing Harry and Lupin...<br/>Also, I'm not particularly proud of the plot for this chapter, but I honestly wasn't sure what else that Tubbo could get bullied for because he's such a nice dude. I just wanted to get it out and finish it as quickly as I could, so here you go! Hope you guys enjoy :)</p><p>Disclaimer: This book is entirely based on interpretations of the online personas of the minecraft characters and is not in any way meant to create illusions of their real personalities. (Hence, why I use their minecraft usernames instead of their real names.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Soot, what is this purple atrocity?" Professor Snape snapped at Tommy as he glared down at Tommy's attempted potion for boils, which was dark purple and much duller than everyone else's.</p><p>"A cure for boils, sir," Tommy replied staring directly at Snape. </p><p>"Idiot boy, you added the porcupine quills too early, your potion is not bright enough." Snape spat, "This is not a cure for boils, 15 points from Gryffindor for lying to a teacher." </p><p>Tommy turned red. This was the first time that 15 points had been lost by any of the first year Gryffindors, as teachers usually took 1 or 2 per mistake in class, Snape usually taking 10. The unfairness of the situation made his blood boil, he <em> had </em> stated the truth, it was a potion <em> meant </em>to cure boils. Feeling a mix of disgruntled and sympathetic stares from the rest of the students, Tommy let his snark overtake his rationality. </p><p>"Still brighter than your demeanour." He mumbled, not expecting Snape to hear it. To his dismay, the professor paused in his step and whipped around to face him. </p><p>"What was that? Soot?" Snape questioned, his black beady eyes glittering with malice.</p><p>"Nothing sir-"</p><p>"Another 10 points away for attempting to insult a teacher, and detention for you tonight Soot. Meet me at the dungeons." Snape said smoothly, eyes glinting as Tommy clenched his fists under the table. </p><p>Tommy really hated Snape. </p><p>--</p><p>It was nearing October and the weather was cooling down rapidly. The trees which previously held green leaves were now draped in red and orange, and students were happily enjoying the cool weather before it turned too cold to be nice. As it was a Friday, Tommy had planned to walk around the courtyard with Wilbur to enjoy the scenery. However, he now had detention, and instead was walking within the suffocating castle, down the steps towards the dungeons. </p><p>Tommy was feeling a little down. So much for becoming an alpha male, he thought, that now his days were filled with repression. Suppressing the urge to yell at teachers, suppressing the urge to make loud and witty remarks, suppressing the urge to gain the attention of the people around him. His brothers surely noticed this, for he was the opposite at home, bright and energetic and the good kind of insufferable. Tommy was an eleven-year-old, immature and mischievous and itching to move and play, yet he was forced into his shell because he was placed into the wrong house. </p><p>He often wondered what would have happened if he was placed in Slytherin. He gazed at their side of the classroom during Transfiguration, and envied how they were able to make unkind remarks that were accepted by others because that was the nature of their house. On the other hand, no one would accept a Gryffindor who made these remarks, because Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and kind and <em> good. </em></p><p>What on earth was the sorting hat thinking? Tommy was the opposite of good, he was bitter and aggressive, and liked to push away those that cared about him. </p><p>Suddenly, Tommy heard voices around the corridor. They were loud and threatening, and distantly reminded Tommy of people he knew. Approaching the corridor, he peered around a wall, and saw two first years that he vaguely recognised as Ravenclaw students, Eric and Henry.  </p><p>"You just can't keep your mouth shut, can you?" Eric snarled at a figure that was crouching against the wall.</p><p>"As a matter of fact, I can, I have the necessary muscles required to-" A very familiar voice rang out before being cut off by a grunt as Henry kicked him. Tommy realised in horror that that was Tubbo. </p><p>"Shut up-"</p><p>"You don't have the authority to make me keep quiet! I'm not even in the wrong here," Tubbo gasped, exasperated and in pain, "I was telling the truth!"</p><p>"Just because you somehow managed to get <em> Snape </em>of all teachers to like you, it doesn't mean you get to ignore the fact that you pull Ravenclaw down. Your Transfiguration sucks, your herbology sucks, that means that you don't get to make accusations towards people like me." Eric said, punctuating each phrase with a kick to Tubbo's stomach, "You don't deserve to be in Ravenclaw, and you'd better bloody accept that-"</p><p>Tommy lunged at Eric from behind, pulling him off Tubbo and sending him to the ground. He engaged in a brief tussle with Eric before he rolled away, dodging Henry's kick and getting swiftly to his feet. Tommy liked to pride himself in his combat abilities, cultivated after years of friendly fights with his brothers and the necessary fights with the bullies in the toilets of his elementary school. He wasn’t very strong, but he was fast. These were wizards - pure blooded, probably - with heavy feet and an inability to engage in real fights that didn't involve wand-threats. Despite being outnumbered, Tommy managed to wrestle them to the ground, punching them squarely in the stomach for good measure.</p><p>By now a few other students had gathered to see the fight evolving, as quite a few loud profanities had been exchanged between the combatants. Thus, a teacher had been alerted quickly, and McGonagall arrived just in time to see Tommy punching Henry and Eric on the floor. </p><p>"Soot, Wright, Evans, get up!" McGonagall cried, as the teenagers turned to face her, littered in bruises. </p><p>"Why are you fighting, and who started this?" She demanded, and turned to the bystanders for answers.</p><p>"We arrived to see them already fighting, but it seems as though the Gryffindor started it." A Hufflepuff girl said before Tommy cut her off. </p><p>"They were beating up Tubbo!" Tommy declared, whilst Tubbo declared at the same time that Eric and Henry had started the fight first. </p><p>McGonagall turned to the rest of the bystanders who pointed at Tommy as the instigator of the fight, while Eric and Henry vehemently denied the action of hitting Tubbo. </p><p>Sighing, McGonagall turned towards the four of them. "Eric, Henry, 2 weeks of detention in the Trophy room from 5-6. Tommy, you'll have an entire month for starting this. Tubbo please try not to lie for the sake of your friend. Unless, those bruises on your arm are because you participated in the fight as well?"</p><p>There was a pause as Tommy groaned, and Tubbo looked at the ground. </p><p>"Professor, Tommy didn't start the fight, it was me." Tubbo said, looking up, his voice stuttering slightly. </p><p>"Really?" McGonagall asked, surprised, as she looked Tubbo over, contemplating. "Very well then Tubbo, 2 weeks for the three of them and a month of detention for you. Meet me in my office after class tomorrow."</p><p>"Thank you professor, sorry professor," Tubbo garbled. </p><p>McGonagall ushered them to the Hospital Wing for their bruises to be taken care of, and Tommy and Tubbo walked side by side in silence. </p><p>--</p><p>“What did you even <em> do? </em>” Tommy asked the next day, breaking the awkward silence while they were listlessly wiping trophies. </p><p>“I told the truth. Eric’d been boasting about his father in the ministry in the first few days of school, and he said something about how his father had implemented a law that mandated wizards state their status - whether pure-blooded, half-blooded or muggle-born, as part of their identification. Then, I said that in the muggle-world, these types of policies encouraged discrimination against minorities, so this would cause even more discrimination against the muggleborns.”</p><p>“I see,” Tommy replied. It was at times like this when Tommy was reminded that Tubbo was really a Ravenclaw. </p><p>“So the next day, Eric comes up and punches me, because he’s annoyed with me. I didn’t give a hoot about that, or when he started orchestrating pranks on classmates and framing me, to turn the house against me.”</p><p>“Wow-”</p><p>“I didn’t because I’m fine on my own? I guess? But then two days ago Snape gives everyone a snarky comment on their potion except mine, and suddenly Eric is pulling up a prank on Snape and trying to blame me. I can tolerate this with students, but with teachers? No. So I proved that it was Eric. And then yesterday that was his form of punishment.”</p><p>“Eric and Henry, such bloody idiots.”</p><p>“Right, and they said only Slytherins are capable of bullying. Nonsense. Anyone from any house is capable of bullying.”</p><p>“Well said, my man, well said.”</p><p>“Including those from Gryffindor,” Tubbo said suddenly, whirling around to face Tommy for the first time in the Trophy room, “Why’d you force me out of that compartment in the train?”</p><p>“Because you were being annoying,”</p><p>“Wha-”</p><p>“And I wanted the compartment to myself,”</p><p>“That-”</p><p>“And I deserve it because I’m superior. Aren’t you going to thank me for saving your life?” Tommy accused, peaceful mood shattered and defensive barriers rising.</p><p>“My life never needed saving-”</p><p>“So you’d honestly rather me just leave you there with Eric and Henry-”</p><p>“I’d rather you just apologise for being rude to me in the train-”</p><p>And then Tommy began yelling a few curse words (Which the author has kindly censored because like badboyhalo, “Language!”) </p><p>“I should never have helped you, you son of a-”</p><p>“Thank you.” Tubbo said, shutting Tommy up. Tommy was surprised to find that Tubbo’s eyes were glistening. </p><p>There was an awkward silence as the two stood staring at each other. </p><p>“I’m sorry about the train,” Tommy mumbled, “And thank you for taking the blame of the fight.” He was unable to look at Tubbo while he said this - at that moment, the ground was unusually interesting. </p><p>“No problem Tommy.” Tubbo coughed out, before walking resolutely to the other side of the room. They were silent for the rest of the hour, but amidst the silence came a gentle kind of warmth, evident by the smiles on the faces of the two boys despite not looking at each other. </p><p>--</p><p>On Monday, when Tubbo slid into the seat next to him in charms, Tommy visibly blanched. </p><p>“What are you doing Tubbo?” He whisper-screamed as people around them gave them odd looks. They were used to a Tommy who would glare and resolutely not allow anyone to sit in the chair next to him, which was reserved for his book bag. </p><p>Tubbo merely plopped Tommy’s book bag on the other side of the table and stretched out his legs, shrugging.</p><p>“Don’t outcasts need to stick together?” He grinned, and hesitated, sitting up, “Unless you really need the extra space, then I’ll leave-”</p><p>“Just shut up and stay.” Tommy grunted, ignoring Tubbo’s not-so-silent whoop of joy.</p><p>Henceforth, Tommy would never be able to say with certainty that he did not have any friends. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tommy: I'm not a good person.<br/>Also Tommy: Willingly jumps into a fight to save an acquaintance that he isn't even proper friends with.</p><p>So, what do you guys think? I am really not a good writer, so I fear that I'm going to ruin this AU more if I add more chapters. At the same time, I've grown to like this universe a little bit, so I'm undecided on whether I should attempt to continue this...<br/>Thank you for sticking around to the end of this chapter!<br/>Comments are greatly appreciated, I'm lonely lol :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy hates Sirius Black, and doesn't like dementors very much.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Posted this a day earlier than expected. Despite myself I ended up writing more for this AU because it has turned into my way of stress-relief (Not sure if that's a good thing though, since it contributes to my procrastination in the midst of revision for exams.) Anyway, hope you enjoy!<br/>Note: There's a section in this that I copied closely from the actual paragraphs in the 3rd Harry Potter book (The Fat Lady scene), so a reminder that all the plot and characters from the actual Harry Potter book belong to J.K. Rowling!<br/>Additionally, remember that the characters are all very young here, with Tommy and Tubbo being eleven. Thus, they are a little more childish and a little more scared than their minecraft personas.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy didn’t like feasts in the Great Hall. It wasn’t that Tommy didn’t like eating good food, but he didn’t like how he couldn’t sit with people that he wanted to sit with when eating in the Great Hall. </p><p>Presently, Tommy was sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table, eating miserably while trying to count the number of pumpkins that had been magically levitated above the long tables to create an exuberant Halloween atmosphere. The Great Hall was filled with excited chatter, particularly from the 3rd years who had been given the opportunity to visit Hogsmeade for the first time. </p><p>As promised, Wilbur had brought back a generous assortment of sweets from Honeydukes for Tommy and Tubbo, including the infamous Sugar quills that Tubbo had heard of from Phil and immediately clamoured for (“Imagine being able to eat a sweet in <em> class</em>!” Tubbo exclaimed). The pleasant mood, however, was ruined when they had to proceed to the Great Hall to partake in the Halloween feast, and Tommy was once again reminded of the stupidity of not allowing students from different houses to eat together. </p><p>He stared glumly at Tubbo, who had managed to strike up a conversation with a Ravenclaw boy at his table. Tubbo’s bullying situation had gotten better - after the incident, Tommy and Tubbo were nearly together at every moment, making it difficult for Eric and Henry to hurt them. </p><p>“Hey, you’re Wilbur’s brother right?” A voice rang out, interrupting Tommy’s train of thought. He looked up to see a Gryffindor boy with shaggy black hair, who looked to be about 14.</p><p>“Yeah, why?” Tommy answered conversationally.</p><p>“Mm, you’re very different from your brother,” the third year remarked, as he placed his cutlery on his plate, “you look different too.”</p><p>“I hope you mean that in a good way,” Tommy found himself saying, “I think I’m better than he is.”</p><p>The boy laughed. Tommy decided he rather liked this the third year.</p><p>“<em>Definitely</em>, you’re in a better house than he is-”</p><p>Tommy frowned, why did house politics permeate so many conversations?</p><p>“-I’m Sapnap. What’s your name?”</p><p>“Tommy. You know, Slytherin isn’t all that bad.” Tommy said quickly. He would joke about being better than his older brother, but he would never allow anyone to seriously insult his Wilbur. </p><p>Sapnap grinned. “Of course I’m joking. My best friend is in Slytherin. Though, I’m glad you don’t hate them as much as the rest of the people along this table do,” he gestured discreetly at the Gryffindors around them, who didn’t seem to be paying attention to him. </p><p>Tommy was really starting to like Sapnap. </p><p>The rest of the feast, Tommy decided, was rather enjoyable. He spent the remaining time conversing with Sapnap, who seemed as bored (and lonely) as he was at the table. Sapnap was nice and relaxed, and shared Tommy’s sentiments about house boundaries being suffocating. </p><p>The moment the feast was over, he rushed over to Tubbo, who had a similar satisfied smile mirrored on his face. </p><p>“I talked to a Gryffindor-” </p><p>“There’s this cool guy-”</p><p>They both began at the same time, before stopping and laughing. The lights were soft and dimmed in the Great Hall, and the din around them gradually decreasing as crowds of people left the hall, retreating to their dormitories. Tommy felt ridiculously happy, perhaps it was the sugar in his system, or that this was the first feast that they had experienced in Hogwarts. </p><p>“I wonder what happens to these pumpkins,” Tubbo remarked, gazing upwards at the large orange figures suspended above them.</p><p>“They throw them away?” Tommy inquired, confused, “What would you expect them to do?”</p><p>“I don’t know, do you think the pumpkins are satisfied with their purpose? To be gutted out and left, empty and hollow, and to gather the attention of people in one night - 3 hours maybe, before they have to go, so many years of hard work growing to be killed in the span of one day-”</p><p>“Tubbo, I don’t think they’re conscious,” Tommy deadpanned, before descending into fits of laughter, “Where do you even get these ideas?”</p><p>“I don’t know-”</p><p>“Pumpkins don’t <em> think </em> or <em>talk- </em>”</p><p>“We wouldn’t know-”</p><p>“I’ve never had a pumpkin talk to me before. Has a pumpkin ever talked to you, Tubbo?”</p><p>“I’d imagined it before-”</p><p>“Tubbo, when was the last time you <em> slept</em>?”</p><p>Tubbo turned to face him, his eyes glazed and slightly unfocused.</p><p>“<em>I don’t sleep</em>, Tommy.”</p><p>At this point Tommy was slightly concerned as he was hit with yet another fit of laughter, which despite being born out of joy, didn’t sit very well with his full stomach. </p><p>“You should get some sleep, Tubbo,” Tommy said, half-serious, as he gently pushed Tubbo out of the hall. They parted amicably at the junction between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers. Tommy really hoped Tubbo could get some sleep, his friend looked a little too tired for his own good. </p><p>Yawning, he groggily climbed the steps to the Gryffindor tower, pausing when he saw crowds of people outside the portrait. </p><p>“Let me through please,” came Head Prefect Percy’s voice, as he bustled importantly through the crowd. “What’s the holdup here? You can’t all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I’m the <em> Head Boy- </em>”</p><p>A silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a sudden sharp voice, “Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick.”</p><p>People’s heads turned, and Tommy stood on his tiptoes to try and see what they were talking about. He moved backwards, up the nearby staircase in an attempt to gain height, just as Professor Dumbledore arrived. As the crowds parted, Tommy caught a glance of the portrait door, and drew in a sharp breath. </p><p>The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Tommy shuddered. Was this what Wilbur was talking about when he said that Hogwarts was no longer safe? </p><p>He zoned out as the noise around him grew, anxious students chattering as they wondered who chased the Fat Lady away. His legs were quivering slightly, and he sank onto the steps. Distantly, he heard the words Sirius Black, the infamous criminal, mentioned. Tommy felt faint. With Wilbur and Phil down in the dungeons, he didn’t feel safe. Sirius Black wanted to kill Harry Potter, what was to say he wouldn’t kill defenceless eleven-year-olds in the process? </p><p>“Tommy, <em> Tommy, </em>” someone was gripping his shoulders and gently shaking him, “We’ve got to go to the Great Hall.” He opened his eyes to see Sapnap, normally cheerful eyes filled with worry. He let Sapnap guide him to the Great Hall as he drowned out the noises of the people around him. </p><p>“Tommy, what happened?” A familiar voice shook him out of his stupor, and Tommy realised with a start that Sapnap had guided him to the Great Hall, and brought him to Wilbur. Making a note to thank the older Gryffindor later, Tommy quickly launched into the story of the Fat lady’s disappearance. Tubbo appeared sometime in between, yawning and clutching the edge of Wilbur’s robe, looking like he was about to fall asleep standing. Wilbur quickly wrapped his arm around the smaller boy, letting him lean into him. </p><p>They fell silent as Dumbledore instructed them to spend the night in the Great Hall for their safety, while conjuring an abundance of squashy purple sleeping bags. Wilbur quickly grabbed three of them and gestured for them to move to one of the corners, where Phil was already waiting. </p><p>“Do you think Sirius Black will come for us, Wilbur?” Tommy asked worriedly as they all settled into the sleeping bags, though he was feeling a great deal better with his brothers by his side. </p><p>“No Tommy, not when we’re all together.” Wilbur replied firmly. </p><p>“Why would Black want to interrupt our first sleepover together?” Tubbo interjected sleepily. </p><p>Phil reached over to ruffle Tubbo’s hair and Tommy stifled his chuckle, before he settled down, deciding that he was safe there.</p><p>—</p><p>It seemed that the entirety of Hogwarts had decided that Sirius Black was the most interesting topic of conversation, and thus deserved to be discussed at every possible moment. Tommy didn’t like to hear about Sirius Black, the thought of the criminal sent bile up his throat. In truth, Tommy was afraid of him - it was bad enough with dementors guarding every entrance of the school. He personally hadn’t encountered a dementor yet; his compartment in the train was one of the few lucky ones to be unaffected by the ambush of dementors at the beginning of the school term. </p><p>(He didn’t quite understand dementors either. According to Tubbo, they had the ability to force a person to relive their worst memory, and could also perform the <em> Dementor’s kiss, </em> a process which sucked the soul out of a person, leaving nothing but an empty shell behind. Tommy could not imagine what being would want to do such a thing, nor the motivations behind such actions. How did the Dementors even <em> stomach </em>what they ingested?) </p><p>On the bright side, flying lessons for first years had started recently, which had been originally delayed due to certain reasons that the Headmaster did not disclose. The moment Tommy placed his hand over his broom and it zoomed into his palm, Tommy had decided that he really wanted to become a quidditch player.</p><p>He voiced these thoughts to Tubbo the next day, who looked at him as though he had grown an extra head.</p><p>“You <em> like </em>quidditch?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s amazing, the broom flew into my hand and I felt like Harry Potter-”</p><p>“The broom <em> flew into your hand? </em> ” said Tubbo, his eyes wide as saucers, “The world is <em> so </em>unfair!”</p><p>Tommy found out later that Tubbo simply wasn’t one for quidditch - his broom had simply rolled over when he desperately tried to yield it. </p><p>Unfortunately, after his first few quidditch lessons, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Dark clouds surfaced nearly every single day, and those competing in the upcoming match between Gryffindor and Slytherin found it extremely difficult to practice. </p><p>A few days later, it was announced that Slytherin would be forfeiting the match, and that Gryffindor would play with Hufflepuff instead. Wilbur, who had been eagerly looking forward to the match as a quidditch enthusiast (who had regrettably been unable to get into the team) was cursing Malfoy’s name for days. </p><p>(“What happened?” Tommy had asked. Wilbur launched into a spiel about how an annoying classmate of his pretended to have injured his arm so that he could forfeit the match, in order to get a match against Gryffindor in better weather. He understood that this would give the Slytherins a better chance in upcoming matches, but no one cared more about fair play and sportsmanship than Wilbur did.) </p><p>On the day of the quidditch match, however, the weather was the opposite of promising. Dark clouds swirled overhead, as if taunting the audience, though it was not raining. Despite this, the teachers decided to allow the match to proceed.</p><p>Throughout the match, Tommy was absolutely enthralled. He longed to be there one day, chasing the snitch like Harry Potter. Looking to the left, he saw Tubbo focusing hard too. This was likely the first quidditch match Tubbo had ever seen in real time, given his background. Tommy was glad that Tubbo was enjoying it. </p><p>“Wait Tommy, what are those-” Tubbo elbowed Tommy in the ribs, startling him. He turned to glare at Tubbo before noticing his friend’s arm outstretched, pointing towards a few dark figures in the grass.</p><p>It had begun to rain, and through the mist it was difficult to see the dark shapes slowly moving around right below the stands.</p><p>Before Tommy could react, the dementors crossed the threshold of the pitch and entered fully.</p><p>It hit him in an instant, the feeling of cold darkness and heavy despair. He suddenly found himself shaking as his legs lost feeling, and he dropped down to allow blood to flow to his brain. Distantly, he could hear shouting, but couldn’t recognise it as a cacophony of noise materialised in his head.</p><p>
  <em> “Don't leave me, please-"  </em>
</p><p>There were so many unintelligible voices in his head that it was hard to distinguish between them, but a man’s voice stood out amongst the chaos, chanting the phrase above over, and over, and over, <em> and over… </em></p><p>And then warmth spread through his body and the darkness was gone. Tommy was squatting on the floor of the stands, hugging his knees, as Tubbo knelt before him, grasping his wrist tightly. Tubbo’s face was pale and his eyes were shining, and his mouth open as though he’d been calling Tommy’s name. </p><p>“Tommy, you look <em> terrible</em>,” Tubbo gasped, “You looked terrible and you were there hugging your knees and <em> shaking </em>and I was here and I couldn’t do anything.”</p><p>“Could say the same for you, you’re as pale a sheet.” Tommy got out, as he noticed several students around him in similar, shaken positions, though perhaps not on the floor as he was. It turned out the dementors had entered their side of the stands, before being chased away by Dumbledore. The other sides of the stands seemed currently preoccupied with peering down at something in the middle of the field. </p><p>Tommy mustered the strength to stand up, dragging Tubbo up with him, who still refused to let go of his wrist. Together, they walked to the front of the stands, looking down to see Harry Potter’s body being hurriedly put on a stretcher and brought away by Dumbledore.</p><p>“Th-think he’s dead?” Tubbo stuttered out, “I saw him fall before th-the Dementors came.”</p><p>“Idiot, this isn’t the muggle world.” Tommy snapped, though he was uncertain of it himself. The darkness that had temporarily surrounded him before had left, but not without leaving behind a damp residue of dread. Tommy felt as though he’d been drowning in a sticky black syrup of fear, and although he’d been pulled out of the syrup, the liquid clung to him and enveloped him unpleasantly, impossible to get off. </p><p>The school was in a frenzy, those that were affected by the dementors were quickly offered chocolate by Professor Lupin, whilst the rest of the school was buzzing about Harry Potter. Had someone sent in the dementors to kill him? Was it Sirius Black? Did Sirius Black have the power to wield control over the Dementors? Was Sirius Black a dementor? </p><p>Tommy and Tubbo sat side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder, chewing on their chocolate and tried not to let their fear show on their faces.</p><p>Most importantly, Tommy was confused - what was the voice in his head? Who did it belong to? </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wilbur &amp; Tubbo is underrated as heck, I personally find it really hilarious how Wilbur treats Tubbo as the adorable little brother and Tommy as the insufferable one (sometimes). I think it makes sense in this AU if Tommy is actually Wilbur's biological brother, and Tubbo is Tommy's best friend that Wilbur has extended his protectiveness over.<br/>Also yes, Phil is in this and he's a Hufflepuff seventh-year. Admittedly, I haven't watched many of Technoblade's and Phil's videos, so I'm not sure what their actual personalities are like. I guess I'll just add them in as side characters. So basically, Phil, Wilbur and Tommy are all brothers!<br/>Thanks for reading! Comments are greatly appreciated as I am lonely and those are my source of happiness.<br/>P.S. Sapnap is cool. I know he doesn't have black hair in real life but remember that I'm writing based on their minecraft personas!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy meets Sirius Black, and the encounter is not like one that he would have expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello I'm back, it's getting harder to continue with this AU because of stuff in real life but here's a chapter! I hope I didn't ruin the AU with this weirdly paced... thing.<br/>By the way, the events closely follow the ones in the Harry Potter book (I have some stuff planned out for later that is less related to the main plot) So if you haven't read the third book for some odd reason, feel free to leave questions down in the comments, because it may be a bit confusing if you don't know who the canon Harry Potter characters are!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Many weeks passed since the Dementor incident, and they were thankfully rather ordinary. Before long, it was time to think about Christmas. Tubbo, in particular, was very excited, because his birthday was coming soon, and he was going home for the holidays. </p><p>Tommy, Wilbur and Phil were staying in Hogwarts, as their parents were on a business trip in Egypt. Such was the case more often than not - their parents seemed to be perpetually overseas. They were all used to it, with Tommy having spent the past two years in the company of a single babysitter when his brothers had gone to Hogwarts. </p><p>(They had all grown up without much parental guidance, which had manifested itself in Phil’s lasting sense of responsibility, Wilbur’s ability to deal with children and Tommy’s lack of the two aforementioned skills. To give him credit, Tommy had grown to have a unwavering sense of determination, unparalleled by many others his age.)</p><p>Presently, Tommy was sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room on the bright Christmas morning, begrudgingly doing a Potions essay. He’d promised Wilbur and Phil to meet them on the grounds outside a few hours later, so he had to finish his homework (which was already one day overdue) to avoid the intensification of Snape’s hatred towards him. </p><p>He recalled that the essay - one on the importance of chopping up reagents like Fluxweed and Knotgrass - had previously been done by Tubbo on behalf of him when he had moaned about there being too much homework. “Please help me with this essay,” he had groaned, to which Tubbo simply wrote it out in the entirety of 15 minutes, and handed it back to him.</p><p>Tommy wasn’t stupid, he copied out the essay in his own handwriting before submitting it to Snape. What he wasn’t expecting was to be ambushed by the greasy-haired professor the next day, his eyes bright and accusatory. </p><p>“Soot, did you write this essay?”</p><p>“Of course Professor-”</p><p>“<em>Did you produce this piece of work?” </em></p><p>So taken aback by the unexpected confrontation was Tommy that he mindlessly shook his head, providing Snape with all the confirmation he needed. </p><p>“Write this essay, and hand it to me before Christmas. I expect to see <em> no plagiarised work </em> in the future, Soot, <em> am I clear? </em>” Snape hissed, before leaving. </p><p>Tommy was confused. The reasons were twofold: One, that so far no teacher had ever been able to detect if a student did the work of another, and two, that Snape had somehow forgotten to give him detention and didn’t take points from Gryffindor. </p><p>Despite this, Tommy was annoyed. Although not excelling at all subjects like his house expected him to do, Tubbo was flawlessly gifted at potions, and never failed to help Tommy with his homework. (In fact, he even preferred to do Tommy’s potions essays than study books about plants.) This incident meant that he could no longer fully rely on Tubbo’s help. </p><p>A loud commotion distracted Tommy from his essay. He looked up to see Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley in an argument of sorts, before the bushy-haired girl ran away, clutching her cat. The two boys seemed to be at a loss for words, when they turned to see Tommy staring. Tommy tried to look down to pretend he wasn’t at all seeing (and judging) the event that had transpired, but they moved towards him anyway. </p><p>“Soot, uhhh, Tommy right?” Harry said awkwardly</p><p>Tommy nodded. How did <em> Harry Potter </em>know his name?</p><p>“Ignore what just happened, will you?” Harry mumbled before he left the common room with Ron.</p><p>Well, that was <em> awkward. </em></p><p>Harry Potter was a weird fella. </p><p>-- </p><p>Christmas passed by rather uneventfully. With the beginning of the new term, their examinations drew nearer. There were far less mishaps occurring with dementors and Sirius Black as the security of the Castle had increased significantly, which meant that there were less distractions. Tubbo, despite being a Ravenclaw, surprisingly detested studying. </p><p>Wilbur made sure to force both of them into the library at least once a week to start on their revision. Both of them could only comply reluctantly as he did so, although they did spend many of those hours chatting under their breaths instead of revising, until Madam Pince had to chase them out. </p><p>With this in mind, Tubbo went researching for a charm that would help them continue to talk in the library. In the middle of February when Wilbur had forced them into the library <em> again </em>, Tubbo turned to Tommy. </p><p>“Tommy.”</p><p>“Tubbo.”</p><p>“Tommyyyyyyy-”</p><p>“What is it?” Tommy muttered, slightly annoyed as he was trying to understand the difference between mermaids and sirens.</p><p>“I figured it out Tommy.”</p><p>“Figured what-”</p><p>“Muffle!” Tubbo whipped out his wand and drew a circle around both of them, “Now we can speak softly and we probably wouldn’t be heard.”</p><p>“Wait really, Tubbo you’re a genius! What does it do?” Tommy snapped his textbook shut, and turned to face his friend. </p><p>“I actually have no idea!” Tubbo replied, smiling.</p><p>“Does it even work, then,” Tommy frowned, doubtful. </p><p>“I think so, I was humming Never Gonna Give You Up last night under the spell and no one threw their books at me. Oh look Madam Pince is coming, let’s test it out!”</p><p>Before Tommy could stop him, Tubbo started humming an unfamiliar tune under his breath as Madam Pince passed by their table. </p><p>“We’re no strangers to love~” Tubbo started whisper-singing once her back was turned towards their table.</p><p>Tommy watched in amazement as Madam Pince continued walking, seemingly deaf to Tubbo’s soft singing. </p><p>“You know the rules, and SO DO I-”</p><p>“Okay okay enough of that,” Tommy cut Tubbo off, “Your voice is terrible.”</p><p>Tubbo’s face fell, and he gazed at Tommy imploringly. To Tommy’s horror, his heart hiccupped slightly with guilt, which was something he didn’t experience often when insulting someone. </p><p>“The song is horrible, not your voice. Choose a better song next time.” He found himself saying hurriedly. </p><p>Tubbo’s face fell even further, and he shuffled away from Tommy, moving to the other side of the table. </p><p>“What, it’s true! You have a terrible taste in music.” Tommy said angrily, getting defensive. </p><p>“No, <em> you </em> have a terrible taste in music,” Tubbo retorted, “Never gonna give you up is an amazing piece of art!”</p><p>“How is it that I have never heard that <em> atrocity </em> in my life before-”</p><p>“How many times do I have to tell <em> you two </em> to <em> shut your mouths</em>,” A commanding voice boomed, silencing the two boys. They looked up to see a seething Madam Pince, her mouth set in a firm line. She pointed towards the door. </p><p>Begrudgingly, they packed their book-bags and left the library. </p><p>“Think Wilbur would mind that this is the 4th time we’ve been kicked out in the 7 times that we’ve been forced to go to the library?” </p><p>“Shut up Tubbo, this is all your fault.”</p><p>-- </p><p>The next unordinary occurrence happened on the night of the Quidditch Match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. As the rest of the school lay in slumber, Tommy and Tubbo were breaking the rules, sneaking around the school at 2am with a disillusionment charm.</p><p>“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Tubbo whispered as they leant against the wall, having just managed to sneak past Peeves the Poltergeist by climbing on top of a broom closet. </p><p>“When Filch receives this the next morning, you’ll <em> know </em>this is a good idea.” Tommy replied, before they warily climbed off the broom closet and proceeded towards Filch’s office. </p><p>They had planned to place temporary irremovable hair dye on Filch’s hairbrush, which would give him obnoxiously bright pink hair for 24 hours. This was a new product of Zonko’s, a hair dye that would remain invisible until applied. They had tried to do this in the day time, but Filch’s office was impossible to sneak into when the light came in through the window as it was a place that was constantly in sight of the teachers, who tended to do their work in the offices opposite.</p><p>They snuck up to the door, which was kept closed with a heavy chain and lock. They couldn’t do magic, however, for certain locks had charms which allowed them to trace the wands of those that attempted ‘Alohomora’ on them, or simply sounded an alarm when magic was used in their vicinity. However, Filch had seemingly forgotten about the muggle-tactic of picking locks. </p><p>Tubbo opened the lock with little difficulty and they stepped into the quaint office, which was crammed with drawers and files and random bits of paper scattered around the floor. They quickly dribbled the hair dye on Filch’s hairbrush, and then absconded, making sure to replace the lock and chain. </p><p>They had to move fast, for the shoddy disillusionment charm that Tubbo had attempted to do was not very effective, and faded quickly. Thankfully, the path back to the towers from the office were clear, and they were soon ascending the steps to the Gryffindor portrait hole, grinning at each other. </p><p>Their luck ran out when they saw a tall figure standing outside the Gryffindor portrait. Tommy noticed it first, before he promptly grabbed Tubbo and pulled him behind an armour stand, peering out by the side. </p><p>The figure was a man, Tommy could make out, with pale skin under moonlight that shone through the adjacent windows. He had scraggly black hair, and was dressed in pale brown robes. In his left hand, he gripped a crumpled piece of paper, which he seemed to be studying carefully. </p><p>He shifted, and Tommy caught a glimpse of silver - a small, sharp knife. The man’s face was angled towards them now, the light highlighting his sallow cheeks and sharp jaw, and dark gray eyes hauntingly reminiscent of the man they’d all come to know from the articles Daily Prophet. </p><p>Sirius Black was standing in front of the Gryffindor portrait, holding a knife. </p><p>Shocked, Tommy instinctively stepped backwards, forgetting that he’d previously shoved Tubbo behind him. He crashed against Tubbo, who moved slightly to avoid being crushed, accidentally knocking the armour stand slightly, which shifted with a soft but audible <em> clank </em>. </p><p>Sirius Black turned abruptly to face the armour stand, and walked briskly towards it. Before Tommy could move to warn Tubbo or to run, he was face to face with the most wanted criminal in the wizarding world, who possessed a knife. </p><p>“I’m not going to hurt you.” Black whispered desperately, but his eyes seemed positively feral in the shadows, and his right hand shifted, allowing the glint of his knife to reach Tommy’s eyes, reminding them of the predicament that they were in. Tommy could see nothing but a monster. </p><p>“You have a knife.” Tubbo stated, before he kicked Black in the shin, grabbed Tommy’s wrist and ran. </p><p>They ran and ran and ran, down corridors which they never knew, not pausing to care about where they were going. In their minds the image of Sirius Black impaling them forced them faster than they had ever gone before. With their hearts thudding in their throats, they paused for a moment to catch their breaths when they heard no footsteps chasing after them. They were standing in an unfamiliar corridor, next to a statue of a one-eyed witch. </p><p>“What in Merlin’s name just happened?” Tubbo gasped, as he leant on the statue for support. </p><p>“We almost got <em> killed</em>, Tubbo.” Tommy snapped back. His hands were trembling. </p><p>Something furry brushed against Tommy’s leg and he yelped, clutching onto Tubbo. He looked down to see Hermione Granger’s ginger cat, staring petulantly up at him. </p><p>He relaxed. He liked Hermione’s cat - Crookshanks, was it? - which often sat in the Gryffindor common room, and although Tommy had never managed to get his attention, the cat was calm and cool, very unlike his owner’s best friends. </p><p>The cat walked over to the statue and placed his two front paws on the hump of the one-eyed witch, meowing. </p><p>Extricating himself from Tommy’s grasp, Tubbo bent down to look at the area which the cat had pointed at. There was nothing but smooth stone. </p><p>Meowing, the cat started to move his paws on the surface of the ground in an odd way. </p><p>“Is he writing?” Tommy noted, “D, I, S, S, E, N, D, I, U, M? Dissendium?”</p><p>“Sounds like an incantation,” said Tubbo, before he bent down to look at the hump again. Pulling out his wand, he drew a circle around the hump, muttering the word. He then tapped the hump, and to their surprise, the hump opened to form a small hole into a passageway that was big enough for them to climb through.  </p><p>“Wha-” </p><p>“Let’s go.” said Tommy, and he climbed into the passageway, ignoring Tubbo’s half-hearted plea. They had to hide from Sirius Black, and this seemed like the best option. Tommy trusted Crookshanks. </p><p>The corridor was dark, so that it was almost impossible to make out their surroundings when the opening shut. He could hear Tubbo shifting beside him, and then felt Tubbo’s hand feel around and hit his wrist, clasping it. </p><p>They sat down in the tunnel a few metres from the opening, and let their heart rate slow down. A few minutes after this the opening slid open and Crookshanks entered with another large black dog, but they moved so quickly and the light was so poor that the two boys couldn’t identify the other animal. As the opening shut again, the light went out, and the footsteps of the two animals diminished in volume as the animals ran away.</p><p>“Maybe we should just… sit here for awhile,” said Tubbo, his voice trembling slightly as they sat in the dark, slightly damp corridor, which was colder than the castle but not uncomfortable. </p><p>“Yeah,” Tommy replied. Still in shock from encountering a villain (and possibly, almost death), Tommy didn’t really want to move, and he could sense Tubbo didn’t want to either. His wrist was still held by Tubbo with a vice-like grip, so he shuffled closer to Tubbo until their shoulders and feet were touching with their backs against the wall. Gently, he pried Tubbo’s fingers from his wrist and grabbed his hand, not caring that it was clammy and cold. They were both 11 and they were afraid, now was not the time to get embarrassed about hand-holding. </p><p>“We can’t go back yet, not when he’s there,” Tubbo remarked grimly after a few moments of silence, when they’d had time to catch their breath. Tommy could only hum in agreement, and they lapsed into silence again. The corridor was quiet except for their breaths, and the constant sound of water dripping further down the tunnel. They had no idea where the tunnel led, but they had no desire to discover where it could go. </p><p>“He didn’t chase us.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Were we - are we supposed to report this?”</p><p>Silence again. Tommy knew that theoretically, instead of sitting in this dubious corridor, they should’ve run straight to the teachers, or found a ghost to report it to. But Tommy <em> knew </em>that Sirius Black had deliberately let them go. He knew that Sirius Black had the chance and power to silence both boys with the edge of his knife in seconds, which would be far more convenient for him in his quest to kill Harry Potter. However, Black chose to let them live. Something in the story didn’t add up. </p><p>Light footsteps were suddenly heard at the far end of the corridor, and both boys immediately stilled their breaths. The grip on his hand tightened and Tommy wrapped his free hand around the wand in his pocket and slowly drew it out as the steps got louder. </p><p>Hermione’s ginger cat appeared in the distance, strutting down the corridor as if he owned the place. The boys relaxed slightly, though they still sat stiff with fear. Crookshanks paused in front of them, turning to face them. His large yellow-brown eyes shone in the dark, and he blinked slowly, as if assessing the situation before him. </p><p>“Hey,” Tubbo croaked out.</p><p>The cat blinked again, and stretched languidly in front of them. Then, seemingly taking pity on the terrified children, he walked around the two of them, waving his great fluffy tail, before climbing into Tubbo’s lap and settling into it. Tommy wasn’t sure whether he was imagining things, but at that moment the cat’s eyes seemed to hold unfiltered intensity, as if there was a message that he wished to convey to the children. </p><p>“I feel a lot safer now,” Tubbo remarked.</p><p>“You’re lucky, I’ve never seen him climb into the lap of anyone other than Hermione Granger,” Tommy stated, yawning, “What time is it?”</p><p>“3am.” Tubbo replied, “We could go back to our dormitories at 6am, that’s when the prefects and teacher’s stop their curfew and prepare for the next day of lessons. Much easier to sneak around then.”</p><p>“Great.”</p><p>The water was still dripping incessantly and the floor was hard and cold, but they had a fluffy cat to protect them and hadn’t been killed, so all was good.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you had fun reading! Comments are greatly appreciated, I am very lonely and they are my source of happiness.<br/>Oh and if you guys were wondering why it's "muffle" and not "muffliato", I decided it would be good if Tubbo came up with an incomplete spell, and he will perfect it in the future!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5 (End of Year 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy begins preparing for examinations, and succeeds.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and the end of Year 1!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Tommy, Tommy, wake up-”</p><p>With a groan, Tommy’s forced his eyelids open. His entire body was cramping, from his bottom to his back and to his neck, which was bent over rather awkwardly. As he gained consciousness, he realised to his embarrassment that he had been sleeping on Tubbo’s shoulder. </p><p>“I hope your neck doesn’t hurt that much,” Tubbo said anxiously, wincing when Tommy righted his neck with a resounding crack. He and Tubbo were nearly the same height but Tubbo was slightly shorter - falling asleep on Tubbo’s shoulder was probably not a good idea. </p><p>Stretching, Tommy turned to look for the ginger cat, but he was gone. </p><p>“Crookshanks left a few minutes ago, probably to help us find a path back. We’ve got to hurry.”</p><p>Tommy nodded, and got to his feet. Tubbo muttered the disillusionment charm to the best of his ability as a first year and they were off towards their dormitories. Fortunately, they made it back in time to have quick showers and partook in a change of robes, and entered the Great Hall for breakfast with the throngs of students. </p><p>“You’ve heard Tommy, about Weasley?” A housemate approached him at breakfast.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Black appeared above Weasley last night, holding a knife. Where were you? Didn’t see you in your bed.”</p><p>“My stomach has not been the best, I spent half the night in the toilet.” Tommy lied, clutching his stomach and grimacing. </p><p>His housemate seemed to believe this and walked away, eager to tell more people about Sirius Black. </p><p>Tommy found out shortly, over hearing conversations at the breakfast table, that Black had broken into the Gryffindor dormitories using Neville Longbottom’s written passwords and that Ronald Weasley had awoken to Black holding a knife above him. </p><p>(What people seemed to ignore was that Ronald Weasley had a bed next to Harry Potter. If Black’s sole purpose was to murder Potter, why hadn’t he already done that?) </p><p>Tubbo shared his sentiments, but they decided it was best they not mention that incident within the walls of Hogwarts. However, the effect of the incident lingered - they no longer trusted the safety of the castle. Although the security had increased, Tommy found himself more jumpy than before, sticking closer to Tubbo when they were alone in corridors. </p><p>Inevitably, their change in behaviour did not go unnoticed by those who cared about them. Wilbur had sprung up on them, unannounced, by sneaking behind them and grabbing Tubbo’s shoulders. Tubbo flinched, and this elicited quite a violent reaction from Tommy who immediately grabbed Tubbo’s wrist and pulled him from Wilbur’s hold, attempting to shield him.</p><p>“That wasn’t cool, Wilbur,” Tommy said, as his face turned red from anger and embarrassment. Tubbo, who was sleep-deprived and confused, stood there blinking innocently. </p><p>“Woah woah woah, are you two alright?” Wilbur raised his hands in the air placatingly, but was now filled with concern. </p><p>“Yes. We are right as right can be if you could leave us alone.” Tommy seethed and marched off, dragging Tubbo in tow. </p><p>Wilbur did not let this go, and interrogated Tommy the next day. Tommy cared about his brother, but he knew he could tell no one of what happened that day, other than Tubbo. Logically, he knew how crazy it sounded to bump into Sirius Black and not report him to the teachers - especially when Black had nearly injured a student because they had not done so. Yet, there was something inexplicable about the feeling Tommy had that day, looking Black in the eye and knowing that his life had been purposefully spared. This was something that he was sure no one, other than those that had experienced it, would understand. </p><p>Thus Tommy chalked up his and Tubbo’s experiences to merely a fear of bullies and of the danger in Hogwarts (which was partially true). Wilbur seemed unconvinced, but accepted the explanation. </p><p>--</p><p>The weather steadily grew warmer, and the lure of outdoor play grew stronger, as did the pressure for examinations. Tubbo was under intense pressure from his teachers and classmates for Herbology, Defence against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, History and Astronomy, subjects which he was doing rather poorly at. As a Ravenclaw, they had higher standards, and poor Tubbo was shot dirty glares by his classmates when he failed his assignments. </p><p>Tommy knew that this wasn’t because Tubbo was not bright enough, but was merely because his best friend stayed up most nights extensively reading charms and potions books, which caused him to be unable to focus during the day in lessons that he did not care about.</p><p>Tubbo had recently found a mentor in a fourth-year Ravenclaw with pink hair. His name, Tommy found out later, was Technoblade. Well known for his impeccable ability to duel, Technoblade was well-respected and even feared by some. Tommy and Tubbo learnt that there had been a duelling club set up by their previous Defence against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, that had since been closed. Technoblade had shown his ability to duel there, and so had Dream, a third-year Slytherin who was Sapnap’s best friend, earning them both the respect of their peers and their teachers.  </p><p>Somehow, Tubbo had managed to worm his way into Technoblade’s heart (or relentlessly pleaded with him with Tommy’s help until Techno gave up) and managed to get consultations once a week, which greatly increased his assignment grades. When asked why and how he did so, Tubbo merely explained that, with excellent grades in Defence against the Dark Arts, Potions and Charms, he could fail the rest of his subjects and piece together an average score overall. </p><p>Examinations arrived faster than they could prepare for. The few weeks of essay and practical exams were filled with anxious last-minute revision and Tommy forcibly dragging Tubbo to his common room to sleep enough before the examinations the next day. After they finished their last examination, Tubbo remarked that he rather liked the examination period.</p><p>“Why?” Tommy asked, incredulous. He was exhausted, and looking forward to the last two weeks of school before they could break for the summer holidays. </p><p>“We don’t have lessons!” Tubbo said, as carefree as ever. </p><p>“Yeah but we actually have to use our brains for the exams-”</p><p>“I think I’m just feeling this way because I’ve been sleeping for the past few days.” Tubbo interjected. </p><p>“And that is something that you should have been doing all along.” said Phil, who appeared behind them. He ruffled Tubbo’s hair, said hi to Tommy, and disappeared to continue studying. Phil was completing his last year at Hogwarts, and had his NEWTs (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Examinations: Probably the Wizarding equivalent of the A levels) to sit for.</p><p>They spent the next few days of blissful rest outside in the courtyards, playing gobstones or just flopping down onto the grass, enjoying the weather. After much persuasion, Tommy managed to borrow the school brooms from Madam Hooch and played pseudo-quidditch with Sapnap, Dream and Wilbur. Tubbo hated flying, so he sat by the side watching them play. Tommy and Tubbo got to know Dream, who was kind, the opposite of what the colour of his tie suggested he would be. </p><p>Their playing attracted the stares of other students, who were amused by the two Slytherins and Gryffindors teaming up with one another. It was extremely uncommon to see members from the notoriously competitive houses partaking in interactions with each other that were not hostile. Sooner or later, a few other students joined the mismatched group - A shy Hufflepuff second-year Niki, a third-year Ravenclaw Fundy, and a third-year Hufflepuff Eret. </p><p>Tubbo was nice to everyone (except Tommy), which thus allowed him to click well with gentle Niki, who was comfortable in Tubbo’s enthusiastic presence. Eret and Fundy joined the quidditch game, and they evolved into a three vs three formation. Tommy enjoyed playing with his seniors, even though he was the worst with the broom. However, even Dream admitted that Tommy was steadily improving. Tommy’s goal was to get into the quidditch team for his house, and he was willing to work hard to achieve this. </p><p>The examination results came out on the last day of the term. Tommy had passed all of his subjects, to his relief. Conversely, Tubbo was less lucky - He had failed Herbology and History. To offset this, Tubbo had achieved the top marks for Potions and Charms in the cohort, which allowed him to promote smoothly.</p><p>However, Tubbo was faced with many harrowing glares from his Ravenclaw counterparts when those that had failed certain subjects were announced to receive extra holiday homework. Apparently, Tubbo had been the first Ravenclaw in a long while to fail a single subject, which earned him looks of disgust from many. </p><p>“I’m a disgrace,” Tubbo sighed when they left the great hall where the examination results were announced. </p><p>“No you’re not-” </p><p>“Did you even <em> see </em>the looks on their faces Tommy?”</p><p>“They’re just jealous because the person they thought was a failure beat them in the subjects they wanted to score well for.”</p><p>Tubbo paused. He looked at Tommy, before smiling in the self-deprecating way he often did, which Tommy hated. </p><p>“Are you trying to cheer me up Tommy? It’s okay, I’ll be fine in a few days-”</p><p>“I’m not cheering you up Tubbo, I’m being <em> honest.</em>”</p><p>“Yeah, sure.”</p><p>“You’ve gotta trust me, I’m the most trustworthy of all, the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Tommy-trusty, remember?” Tommy said without missing a beat. </p><p>Tubbo burst out into laughter first, and then Tommy followed suit. The two boys laughed until their stomachs hurt, the mood considerably lighter than before. </p><p>The next morning, they left the castle and boarded the Hogwarts Express, bags packed and ready to go home. Tommy woke up extra early and left before the rest had even finished their breakfast.</p><p>As he arrived at the station, he entered the empty train and ran through it, arms stretched out, all the way to the back. He was looking for an empty compartment, much like he did at the beginning of the school term. Except this time, he was looking to occupy an empty compartment, so that he could share it with Tubbo. Sitting firmly on the plush seats, he ran his hand over the soft leather and grinned. <em> So much has changed since the beginning of the year.  </em></p><p>Tubbo found him a few moments after, and burst into the compartment, throwing his bag into the corner. He sat down in front of Tommy and stared directly into his eyes. </p><p>“Hello, I don’t know who you are, but would you <em> mind </em> going to another compartment?” Tubbo asked in a voice that was meant to be an imitation of Tommy’s, but Tommy was sure his voice didn’t <em> squeak </em> that much - it was Tubbo who had a higher voice anyway. </p><p>“Was that really what I said?”</p><p>“YES, you were so <em> rude</em>. And I remember, I had just been psyching myself up to start a conversation with you, something nice like ‘Hi, where are you from?’ and then you went and <em> threatened </em> me to leave.”</p><p>“I’m a changed man now Tubbo, a changed man. By the way Tubbo, there’s a Quidditch World Cup this summer! Would your parents allow you to go for it? You can come stay with us, and we could get you a ticket!”</p><p>As Tubbo obtained the information about the Quidditch World Cup from Tommy, they also exchanged contact details. Since Tubbo didn’t have an owl, their only way of communication was via Muggle post and the telephone, which Tommy had to figure out on his own. He had Tubbo’s address and phone number scrawled on a piece of paper tucked carefully into his pocket. He found out that they didn’t live that far from each other, thankfully, only about an hour’s drive away. </p><p>Tommy reunited with Wilbur and Phil at King’s Cross, and together with Tubbo, they stepped through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. They met Tubbo’s mother, a pleasant woman, who chatted happily with Phil and agreed to let Tubbo watch the Quidditch World Cup. </p><p>“We could even visit your friends once or twice, Tubbo,” his mother said as she ruffled the hair of her son, who sputtered and dodged away. She had received the address from Phil. </p><p>“We’ll talk more about the World Cup when I figure out the telephone!” Tommy yelled at Tubbo after they had bid their goodbyes and reluctantly left in opposite directions. </p><p>It was odd to be separated from Tubbo after one year of his constant presence, but Tommy was still happy. He had the summer holidays to play with Wilbur and Phil, and the <em> Quidditch World Cup </em>to look forward to. Tommy couldn’t wait.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, I finished Year 1, and I'm quite dissatisfied by the story I have written, but honestly don't really know how to change it for the better. I am not a writer (I don't excel particularly well in English at my school) so I am just glad that I have somehow managed to finish the first year! I don't know whether I'm going to continue the story, I have a few things planned out for the future years, but as I am at the late stage of adolescence, I can only foresee myself getting busier. This is why I marked the story as complete for the time being - I am not sure whether I have the capacity and time as a writer to continue.</p><p>If I find myself with more time though, I will try my best to continue this.  </p><p>Thank you to all those who left super encouraging comments on the previous chapters! I loved them with all of my heart, and they really helped to motivate me and brightened up my day :) I apologise that my replies may have been a little concise, I am bad at expressing my emotions and gratitude. From the bottom of my heart though, thank you for reading this &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Odd things happen to Dream over the summer, and Tommy and Tubbo meet up.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back, I don't know how long this is going to last, but I wrote some stuff. I hope you guys enjoy it! We are finally switching POVs this year :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So, what’s in it for me then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream stared at Draco Malfoy, who smirked at him from where he was seated on the floor of Dream’s bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you want?” Dream replied, cringing when Malfoy’s smile grew bigger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A favour. An unconditional favour that you will fulfil when I ask for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely there must be a condition-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>have the upper hand here,” Malfoy said smugly, “That I could just go out there, say I hate you, and you would be sent to Durmstrang immediately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how would you know the extent to which I am willing to go to attain your help?” Dream hissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you hate us.” Malfoy replied without missing a beat, “Because you are furious at us, because you let this anger spill out, in every glare you send me in Hogwarts. Your face has always been so expressive, Dream, you’d make such an incompetent liar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream really hated the expressiveness of his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you don’t know what to do,” Malfoy concluded, ever the expert at reading Dream’s emotions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. ONE favour.” Dream conceded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy grinned, got to his feet and left the room, leaving Dream on the floor. He relaxed slightly now that he knew that he would not be sent to Durmstrang. He was safe for another year. Yet, remembering Malfoy’s smile, he couldn’t help but feel that he had made a terrible mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream recalled the events that had brought him into this predicament.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream, have you been keeping close to the Malfoys?” His mother asked him, tossing his report card to the side.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was it? Dream thought, no comment about his perfect grades? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes mother,” Dream lied, “I have been trying my best.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You look like you are lying,” his mother stated, unconvinced. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She stood up and walked towards him. Grabbing his shoulder, she leaned in closely so that they were eye-to-eye. Dream could smell the sickening scent of her perfume, and shuddered involuntarily. For a while they stood there in silence, his mother’s eyes stern, while he tried his best to look steadily back. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ever since that traitor joined Gryffindor, you and Draco have never been the same. You knew what you had to do.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes mother-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I trust you have dropped that person, you promised you would at the beginning of the second-year, Dream. It has been two years. You promised me that you would make amends with Draco last year.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, I did-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then why does it seem like you have not achieved that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mal- Draco is hard to talk to, mother.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Draco is a man that is worthy. He is brave, cunning, ambitious, everything that we mothers look for in our son. A drop of his blood is worth more than litres of, who was it, Sapnap’s vile-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unable to take the verbal abuse hurled at his best friend, Dream wrenched himself out of his mother’s grasp, taking a few steps backwards. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We made up Mother, I am friends with Malfoy.” He mustered in the most confident voice he could make. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His mother considered him, her lips drawn together thinly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re going to have dinner with them next Wednesday, we’ll see about that then, if not, it’s off to Durmstrang for some disciplining.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She strolled out of the living room, closing the door firmly. Dream walked over and picked up his report card. He fingered the edges of the tough paper, reading through his perfect grades and his teachers’ satisfied comments. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He raised his arm and threw the report card, watching as it traversed a graceful arc in the air before landing in the wastepaper basket. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream did not want to be sent to Durmstrang. Durmstrang was riddled with silent corruption, filled with people of his Mother’s kind. Dream knew a few of his childhood playmates that had been sent there, and immediately recruited into the secret service, more colloquially known as the miniature death eaters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thus, in order to prevent himself from being sent to Durmstrang, Dream created a deal with Draco Malfoy. It went as such; Malfoy was to act as if he and Dream had been friends for a long time. In return, Dream had to do favour for Malfoy, as and when Malfoy needed it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p><span>Tubbo was lying on his bed, deep in </span><em><span>Charms of Defence and Deterrence, </span></em><span>a book</span> <span>by Cattulus Spangle. </span></p><p>
  <span>Although his bed was empty for him to lie on, his floor was littered with the items that he needed for school, books and files and robes that he was supposed to have packed into his trunk already, that he had clearly forgotten about in lieu of his book. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo, are you done with the packing? Could you help me down here?” His mother shouted. Tubbo jolted, shaken out of intense concentration. He rubbed his eyes drowsily, how long had he been reading? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up and was immediately blessed with a loss of vision, as dark black dots angrily crowded his line of sight. Great, he was dehydrated too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the onslaught of dark black dots had cleared, Tubbo looked at the clock. It was half-past seven. He realised guiltily that he had been reading for two hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo?” His mother called again. There was a pause, and then footsteps were heard thumping up the stairs. Tubbo winced as his mother came in, the light in her eyes dimming as she took note of the state of Tubbo’s room. Her gaze drifted from the floor, to the open book on Tubbo’s bed, to Tubbo, who was hunched over guiltily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed disapprovingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come down and get some water and </span>
  <em>
    <span>finish your packing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> For heaven’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>sake, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo, we’re leaving </span>
  <em>
    <span>tomorrow morning!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although feeling embarrassed by his mother’s scolding, Tubbo couldn’t help but feel the wave of excitement that coursed through his body at the mention of the next day. He was going to go to Tommy’s residence, after which he would attend the Quidditch Cup with them, and would consequently stay the rest of the Summer holidays at Tommy’s place! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo’s mother was a nurse who worked at night. As a result, she could only afford to send Tubbo on the long one-hour trip in the wee hours of the morning. Tubbo had told Tommy that he was going to be arriving the next day, however, he had forgotten to tell him at what time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After his mother had left for work, Tubbo retreated to his bedroom. Painfully, he gathered his items and placed them one by one into his trunk. When he finally finished and all was packed into his bag, tucked into the corner, Tubbo flopped onto his bed and gazed and the clock once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quarter-past eleven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three hours and forty-five minutes before they would leave this house, Tubbo muttered to himself, four hours and forty-five minutes if they left on time to reach Tommy’s, five hours and fifteen minutes if they were delayed. With these numbers in mind, Tubbo drifted to sleep, knowing that he would need the sleep if he was to wake up at exactly half-past three the next day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me your friend is coming over tomorrow, but you don’t know the time that he is coming?” Agnes, the housekeeper of the Soot residence, yelled at Tommy, who merely shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll probably come in the afternoon, like a normal person.” said Tommy, who was used to Agnes’ antics by now. To be fair to Agnes, the Soot residence rarely received guests - Wilbur and Phil preferred to visit their friends rather than have them come over. The only frequent visitors were their relatives (Uncle Sparklez and his family), whom Agnes was already accustomed to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that the Soot residence was uncomfortable - in fact, it was the opposite. It was a great big house, with too many rooms that the boys had no use for, well furnished and maintained by Agnes. Tommy, Wilbur and Phil had grown up here, with old Agnes for company, and attended Muggle elementary school according to the requests of their parents. They didn’t socialise much there, however, for although they were exposed to muggle culture, they were also brought up by Agnes and Wizarding babysitters, all of whom generously used magic in the household. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mysteriously, only Phil possessed brief memories of their parents, while Wilbur and Tommy could barely remember them. They liked to view their parents - Martha and Anthony Soot - as more of rich generous benefactors than actual guardians. Agnes was their real mother, the one who had, with the help of the babysitters, washed, scolded and moulded them into the people that they had become. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thus, despite the lack of a role their real parents held in their lives (other than providing the generous funding for everything they needed), Tommy, Wilbur and Phil grew up quite happily in this residence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll need to be more responsible in the future, Tommy,” Agnes fretted, as she went about dusting the furniture in the living room, “Who knows whether we’ll be prepared for his arrival tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could phone him now-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t phone a muggle past 9pm on a weekday unless it’s urgent! You might be disturbing the residents who are sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo is </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> asleep at 9pm-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His mother!” Agnes rounded on Tommy, holding her duster threateningly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shut up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo stood at the doorway of a large house, whose address matched the one on the paper he held in his hand. He gaped at the massive structure in front of him. Tubbo had grown up in a suburban area, in a cramped two-storey flat with his mother. He had no idea his friend was this rich.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gulping nervously, Tubbo sat himself on the steps of the doorway. His mother had long since driven off, she had to rush back to sleep enough for the next day of work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was 5.30am in the morning. Despite it being summer, the sun was not up, and the breeze was chilly in the predawn period. Tubbo knew that the best course of action to take was to ring the doorbell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, there were many things, he reasoned, that could go wrong in that instant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could’ve gotten the wrong address, and might’ve been stranded or arrested for ringing the doorbell by rich estate-owners who wanted their precious sleep. Even if the address was correct - which was far more likely, Tubbo was sure he could read - he wasn’t sure how Tommy’s parents would react to him waking them up. Would this immediately cause them to forbid Tubbo from attending the Cup, or worse, forbid him from being Tommy’s friend?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In situations like this, when he was thinking irrationally (and knew so), the best thing to do would be to refer to one question. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What would Tommy do? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer was simple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo rang the doorbell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And almost instantly regretted it as he pressed his head against the keyhole and could hear the ring resonating through the house. There was an extremely long pause before he heard movement in the house - and was that someone cursing? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened to reveal Wilbur standing in his pyjamas, grinning widely at Tubbo, although he looked very tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately, Tubbo started apologising for arriving at the inconvenient hour, explaining profusely that he should have informed Tommy about it earlier. Wilbur didn’t seem to be listening, he merely gave Tubbo a quick hug in an attempt to shut him up, before ushering him in, out of the cool dawn air into the warm house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house, if it was even possible, looked bigger on the inside. Tubbo supposed there were some enchantments placed on the house. The house on the outside, although big, didn’t look like it could accommodate </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>many doorways. As he entered the living room, Phil and Tommy emerged down the steps with an old woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you Tubbo,” the woman greeted warmly. She reached out and wrapped Tubbo in a hug, which Tubbo gladly accepted. She seemed very nice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next, it was Phil’s turn to hug Tubbo. Their family in particular seemed to like hugs a lot. Distantly, Tubbo wondered what it was like to have siblings. He realised he didn’t need to wonder anymore, Phil and Wilbur were as good as older brothers to Tubbo as they were to Tommy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Tubbo turned to Tommy, he watched as his best friend cringed at his outstretched arms, stepping out of reach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy decided that he was too old for hugs two years ago,” Wilbur yawned, “Agnes, can we go back to bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agnes nodded, and Wilbur and Phil retreated up the stairs, while Tommy remained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo, would you like something to eat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay ma’am, I’m sorry for disrupting ma’am, please go and rest.” Tubbo blurted out in a hurry, bowing slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agnes laughed. “Such a gentleman, so different from Tommy.” Ignoring Tommy’s emphatic sound of disagreement, she made her way to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just waking up, I’ll get some warm milk and bread for you,” said Agnes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo turned to his friend. Tommy was now seated at the end of the table, studying him with much intensity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” said Tubbo. Tommy’s gaze was slightly unnerving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many centimetres did you grow over the summer, Tubbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo relaxed. For a moment he had been worried that his friend was angry at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I didn’t measure. 2, maybe?” Tubbo replied. He hadn’t grown much, most of his old clothes still fit him, just as they did a year ago. At most, some of his pants were slightly short, but still wearable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah!” Tommy’s face suddenly lit up, and he jumped out of his chair, “I’ve grown by four!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo groaned as Tommy went to stand next to Tubbo. Their slight height difference, which was nearly unnoticeable the previous year, was certainly clear now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really the alpha male Tubbo! The alpha male!” Tommy exclaimed, whooping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll</span>
  <em>
    <span> definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>catch up to you, Tommy,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fat chance of that happening, have you </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> how tall Wilbur is getting?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo had to begrudgingly agree. Wilbur had somehow managed to get even taller over the summer, such that when Wilbur had hugged him in the doorway, Tubbo’s head was immediately buried into Wilbur’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, Tubbo, why’d you have to appear at such an early hour?” Tommy said drowsily after they had eaten their milk and bread, and were trudging up the stairs, Tommy helping Tubbo carry his trunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They deposited Tubbo’s belongings at the spare bedroom next to Tommy’s while Tubbo launched into an explanation of his arrival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too late to sleep now, the sun was already slipping into the sky, lightening the deep blue and dapping light pink and orange at the edges of the canvas above. They decided to retreat to Tommy’s room, where Tommy flopped onto his bed while Tubbo sat at the edge, and exchanged experiences and stories of how their two summers had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo was very happy. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wrote more, but I'll post the next chapter (about this length) exactly seven days from now. See you guys then!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Soot family attends the Quidditch World Cup.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Before I begin, I know that Phil is 4 years older than CaptainSparklez, and that Mumbo Jumbo is merely 2 years older than Wilbur, so I apologise that the ages in this fic are a little weird. Forgive me...</p><p>This chapter is a little longer than usual, just wanted to thank you guys for sticking around and reading this even though I take quite a long time to upload!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, they were woken by Phil, who was dressed in muggle clothing. </p><p>“Get up,” Phil said, pulling the blanket off Tommy and plunging him into the colder air. He ignored the string of curses Tommy sent at him and gently nudged Tubbo, who despite having acquired a guest room, had fallen asleep on the floor of Tommy’s bedroom. </p><p>“Why do we have to be up so early?” Tommy grumbled, forcing himself out of the comforts of his soft bed. </p><p>“We’ve got to walk a little,” replied Phil. </p><p>“Isn’t Uncle Sparklez picking us up? Or we could always Floo-” </p><p>“We’re walking to the Quidditch World Cup?” Tubbo interjected. </p><p>“No, Tubbo, that’s miles away,” said Phil, “It’s just difficult for many wizards to congregate at the same point without attracting attention from the muggles. That’s why we can’t floo, Tommy, it’d be too suspicious and messy for so many wizards to do that at the same time.”</p><p>The word ‘floo’ seemed oddly familiar to Tubbo. After splashing his face with water, he was awake enough to recall the phrase ‘floo powder’, which was a method of travel used by wizards, via fireplaces. All a wizard had to do was throw floo powder into a fireplace, state the name of his destination clearly before stepping into the fire, and he would instantaneously be transported to the fireplace at the destination specified. Tubbo personally had not travelled this way before, but he longed to do it someday. </p><p>After donning muggle clothing and grabbing their backpacks, they ate the breakfast provided by Agnes before bidding goodbye. Exiting the house into the chilly air outside, Tubbo couldn’t help but question Phil about the process of transportation. </p><p>“How do all the wizards get there without attracting the notice of the muggles?” Tubbo asked. </p><p>“You’ve gotta understand Tubbo - about a hundred thousand wizards attend the Quidditch World Cup, so I can’t imagine how the Ministry organises this. Probably a lot of luck and the occasional memory charm helps. I’m not very sure how it works either, but I can only imagine they stagger the arrivals of the wizards based on the price of the tickets, and vary the way that Wizards travel there. Some of them apparate - teleport, basically, and the others who can’t travel by broom, floo, portkeys or even muggle transport.” </p><p>“Portkeys?” </p><p>Phil grinned. “We’re travelling by portkey today, you’ll get to experience it for yourself.”</p><p>As they trudged up the hill, they were met by another group of wizards. Tubbo presumed that they were the relatives of the Soots, as Phil immediately rushed forward and greeted them with a hug. The party contained a man and woman, along with their two young twins, girls who looked to be about five-years-old. </p><p>“Uncle Sparklez!” Tommy roared, and charged forward, giving his Uncle a fistbump. The middle-aged man smiled and greeted his nephew. Tubbo learned later that Uncle Sparklez was Tommy’s Uncle that came to visit frequently. He was young and recently married, with two female twin toddlers who wore matching dresses. </p><p>“This is Tubbo, Tommy’s friend,” Wilbur introduced him. Tubbo looked up shyly and gave a small wave. As the group proceeded on, Tubbo’s respect for Tommy’s uncle grew. Sparklez’s sense of humour was impeccable, and he was an alchemist. Tubbo longed to be like him one day. </p><p>They reached a clearing, and on the grassy floor there was a single tin can. The others had stopped in front of it.</p><p>Sparklez grabbed the can, and held it out to everyone. “Place your finger on the tin can.” He said, and the group of eight crowded around it. Absently, Tubbo wondered what it would be like to be a muggle and see an odd group crowding around in the semi-darkness, touching a singular piece of litter. Would they think of them as some sort of cult? </p><p>Suddenly, Tubbo felt as though the gravitational force acting on his body had shifted momentarily, dragging him towards the object instead of towards the ground. He was jerked roughly forwards, feet leaving the ground, speeding forwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour. His finger seemed to be jammed to the tin, and in the sickening motion he could feel himself being shoved against Tommy and Wilbur respectively, the movement seeming to continue for an indefinite amount of time until his feet finally hit the ground. </p><p>He gasped for breath as his stomach churned. The movement was so sudden, abrupt and unbearably dizzying that he collapsed on his back. Looking to his left, Tommy was on his feet, though he was swaying so dangerously that he eventually succumbed to the pull of gravity, falling down so that his head crashed onto Tubbo’s feet. Aside from Phil and Sparklez, the rest of the people were crouching on the ground, and the twins were crying. </p><p>Pulling himself up, Tubbo surveyed his surroundings. They were at a camping site, much like the ones that he used to go to with his parents when his father was still alive. They set out towards a wooden hut they could make out in the fog, and could see dozens of tiny tents littering the distance. However, Tubbo could infer that they belonged to wizards, as tents in the distance seemed to be oddly-shaped, some of them even letting out puffs of coloured smoke that was hard to miss. </p><p>As they approached the cottage, a man stood at the doorway, staring out at the tents. From the puzzled look on his face, Tubbo could tell that he was a muggle. </p><p>“Good morning! Would you be Mr Roberts?” Sparklez said brightly.</p><p>The man turned towards them. He nodded, he seemed a little tired.</p><p>“Booked two tents a few days ago.” Sparklez said. Roberts turned and led them into the cottage, still oddly silent. </p><p>As they followed him into the house, Sparklez beckoned Tubbo over. Delighted to be called by his new role model, Tubbo eagerly followed Sparklez into the cottage while the rest stood outside. </p><p>“Tubbo, I need you to help me with the money - I don’t understand what these symbols mean…”</p><p>As Tubbo helped sort out the notes for Sparklez, Roberts suddenly sighed loudly. </p><p>“What is it with you folk - everyone who’s come by has had trouble with money!” The man said, “I’ve got half a mind to go straight to the police, you never know, with all the terrorist activity that’s been going on-”</p><p>At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr Roberts’ front door. </p><p>“<em>Obliviate! </em>” He said wearily. Tubbo watched as Roberts’ previously tightly knitted eyebrows relaxed and his face turned blank. Tubbo recognised the incantation as a memory charm.</p><p>Roberts handed them the map and change placidly. </p><p>They left the cottage and walked towards the gate to the campsite, the wizard in plus-fours accompanying them throughout. When they reached the gate, he spoke quietly. </p><p>“Try to be a little more inconspicuous, no magic outside the tents, keep the noise level down at night. You know the drill.”</p><p>He promptly disapparated. </p><p>As they walked through the gates, Tubbo stared in wonder at the various tents, gaping at how oddly shaped they were. It seemed that some of the wizards hadn’t followed the advice of the man in plus-fours, for their tents were irregularly shaped and draped in Victorian-era decorations, resolutely not obeying the laws of physics that muggles had invented and followed. </p><p>As they came to their spot, Tubbo helped the rest set up two tents, one for the boys and one for Sparklez’s family. It was hard work, with Sparklez’s family not knowing anything about muggle ways of doing things, and Wilbur and Phil were slightly rusty. Sparklez was tempted to assemble the tent with a flick of his wand, but one glare from his wife was all that was needed for him to give the task to his nephews. </p><p>When they were done erecting the tents, one by one the men crawled into the tiny tent, and Tubbo frowned. Surely, the tent couldn’t fit all of them? </p><p>When it was his turn to crawl in, he couldn’t believe his eyes when he took in the sight around him. Somehow, within the tent a certain charm had been placed such that it could fit a small three-roomed flat, complete with a bathroom and a kitchen. This prospect was beyond his imagination. </p><p>“Wizards could solve the problem of overpopulation,” he said excitedly to Tommy, “Never before have I seen space <em> created </em> like this!” </p><p>“Muggles miss out on a lot,” Tommy agreed. </p><p>After depositing their backpacks on their various bunk beds, Tommy and Tubbo were tasked with getting water from the tap at the campsite, whilst the older ones figured out lunch. Sparklez’s wife seemed determined to try out things the muggle way, so they had decided to try cooking outdoors.</p><p>Grabbing a kettle and a bucket, Tommy and Tubbo set out. </p><p>“So, who’s playing today?” Tubbo asked.</p><p>“Bulgaria vs Ireland. The obnoxiously green tents over there - obviously Ireland supporters.” Tommy pointed at a cluster of tents that were draped with bright green decorations, with various posters of what Tubbo could infer were the Ireland quidditch players. As they walked, Tommy launched into a monologue which included many names of quidditch players that Tubbo did not know. Amongst these tents, Tommy and Tubbo recognised a few housemates, which caused them to quickly duck their heads and take a detour, in an effort to avoid awkward encounters.  </p><p>As they reached the water tap, they saw a very familiar head of blond hair.</p><p>“Dream!” Tommy recognised him first, running towards the boy who had, like Wilbur, grown even taller over the summer. </p><p>Dream turned to face them, but he was not smiling. </p><p>“Hey Dream!” </p><p>“Fancy letting us cut the queue?” Tommy asked bluntly. </p><p>An awkward silence ensued as Dream stared at them, his face an unreadable mask. After what seemed like an eternity, Dream responded. </p><p>“Get to the back of the queue, <em> children </em>.” He hissed, in a manner not unlike that of Professor Snape. Gone was the warmth in his eyes that they had seen when he played in the field with them only a few months ago. In its place, there was only cold, unrecognisable fury. </p><p>“What’s gotten into him?” Tubbo asked worriedly when they had gone to the back of the queue. </p><p>“Dunno. Bad summer?” said Tommy, concerned. </p><p>The duo watched as Dream left the tap with a full water bucket. </p><p>He did not turn back.</p><p>-- </p><p>After a few days of camping, it was finally time for the quidditch match that they had been looking forward to. </p><p>Quivering with anticipation, the group of eight made their way to their seats. Tubbo gazed in awe at the sheer number of wizards and witches around them - he’d never seen so many magical people before. </p><p>
  <em> (A quote from the actual book, ‘Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light that seemed to come from the stadium itself. The pitch looked as smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the pitch stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at eye level.’ Thought this would help you guys visualise better.)  </em>
</p><p>The match was one of the most beautiful things Tubbo had ever had the honour to witness. The players zoomed across the field, at speeds faster than he could imagine. The game progressed so fast that it was hard for his 12-year-old mind to process, but he enjoyed the action nonetheless. The match ended with Ireland at a hundred and seventy points, Bulgaria just ten points behind as Viktor Krum, their star seeker, had caught the snitch. </p><p>They trudged with the crowds back towards their tents after the match, throats hoarse from the cheering. The twins were already fast asleep, carried by Uncle Sparklez on his back. Wilbur and Tommy were buzzing with excitement, discussing the tactics carried out by the two teams, while Tubbo tried to follow. </p><p>Filled with energy from the exhilarating match, none of the children were willing to go to sleep. Sparklez, tired from managing his children, left Phil in charge before retreating to his tent with his wife. </p><p>Phil agreed to let them stay up a little longer. Tubbo, used to sleepless nights, was more than willing to continue discussing the match. However, to his surprise, Tommy was nodding off where he was seated at the other side of the table, while Wilbur and Tubbo remained wide awake. Considering this, they decided that it was time to go to bed. </p><p>Tubbo fell asleep to the sound of his best friend snoring, and slipped into a dream filled with brooms, bees, and butterbeer. </p><p>-- </p><p>Tommy felt like his head had scarcely touched his pillow when he was awoken by someone shaking his shoulder. </p><p>“Tommy,” it was Phil, and he sounded very serious. </p><p>“Get up, this is urgent, quick-” His jacket was thrown at him. He could hear the bed squeaking above him as Tubbo woke quickly. </p><p>He pulled on his jacket and jumped out of bed, Tubbo following suit. They could hear scary sounds outside the tent, people screaming, footsteps from running vibrating the ground they stood on. </p><p>Phil ushered the three of them out of the tent. Too short to see over the crowds of wizards, Tommy could only follow Wilbur’s lead. Wilbur kept a firm grip on Tommy and Tubbo’s hands as he maneuvered through the crowds. Tommy realised a few moments later that Phil was nowhere to be seen, and it was just the three of them, Wilbur in the middle with Tommy and Tubbo at each side. </p><p>Tommy surveyed his surroundings. Many other wizards and witches were in their nightdresses, running towards the forest, away from some kind of commotion created behind them. Turning around, Tommy could make out the shapes of what seemed to be muggles being levitated over the crowd. Horrified, he turned towards Wilbur-</p><p>Suddenly, his body was dragged sideways by some invisible force, strong enough to wrench his hand out of Wibur’s grasp. Choking down a scream, he lost sight of Wilbur and Tubbo as the force pulled him at an alarming speed towards the dark woods, too fast for him to grab onto anything.</p><p>He slammed into a body of a dark cloaked figure. </p><p>“<em>Petrificus totalus</em>,” muttered the figure, and Tommy felt his body stiffen, hands snapping to his side and head lolling backwards, out of his control. The figure caught him and started moving, though Tommy could not perceive the direction that he was going. Tommy squinted to see the face of his kidnapper, but in the poor light, it was barely possible to make out what was under the hood. </p><p>The movement stopped. Tommy was placed on the ground, helplessly staring at the inky black sky above him. He could hear the rustling of leaves as the figure trooped around. Abruptly, the figure bent down and grabbed his right palm. </p><p>A searing sensation was suddenly felt across that palm, eliciting a whimper from Tommy. The figure stood up again, holding what seemed to be cotton soaked in a dark red liquid - was that his blood? </p><p>After muttering an incantation on his blood, the figure bent down and looked directly at Tommy. Tommy saw a grotesque white mask, filled with dark curvy lines, hauntingly reminiscent of the evil spirits that haunted his nightmares. He went white with fear, were they going to kill him? </p><p>“You look exactly how I imagined you to be, <em> Tommy, </em>” the death eater muttered, his hand reaching out to push Tommy’s hair back from his forehead.</p><p>“A Gryffindor, eh, what are the odds?” The man continued, while Tommy’s confusion and wariness also grew. Why did this death eater know his name? </p><p>“You look so scared. I wonder, what does your voice sound like?” the man pointed his wand at Tommy’s head, and Tommy’s jaw loosened considerably. </p><p>“Who are you?” Tommy blurted out.</p><p>“Who am I?” The man replied, “How <em> rude </em>of you not to recognise my voice, though I suppose it isn’t your fault-”</p><p>“<em>MORSMORDE!” </em>They heard a shout from a distance, and the dark sky was suddenly lit up with glowing, sickly green fog. A colossal skull was nailed to the sky, composed of emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth. The death eater next to him laughed. </p><p>Without warning, the man disapparated, leaving Tommy alone in the darkness. He seemed to have performed a counter-spell, for Tommy could feel the feeling returning to his joints. Distantly, he could make out many voices coming from the place where the spell was cast, and followed them into a clearing where Harry, Ron and Hermione stood with a crowd of other wizards from the ministry. They seemed to be arguing about the skull in the sky. </p><p>“Excuse me sir,” Tommy approached one of the wizards in the group, his voice quivering, ”Do you know the way back to the camp?” </p><p>At first, the wizard looked at him suspiciously, but after seeing that Tommy was, indeed, a 12-year-old child, he took pity on him. </p><p>He led Tommy through the woods, only pausing once to wave his wand and check Tommy’s body for any signs of dark magic. As they reached the edge of the wood, the ministry employee calmly led Tommy through the buzzing crowd back to the campsite, which was now quiet, with a few ruined tents still smoking. </p><p>Tommy nearly collapsed with relief when he saw Phil and Sparklez outside their tent, looking ready to set out. When they spotted him, they ran towards him, engulfing him in their embrace. </p><p>“Found him deep in the woods, lost,” said the young ministry employee, “got to keep a better eye on these young ones, he was quite near the spot where the Dark Mark was conjured.” </p><p>“Thank you so much, we were just about to set out looking for him,” Phil gushed gratefully, “Mr?”</p><p>“Mumbo Jumbo at your service, member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” the man took off his hat and bowed politely, and took his leave. </p><p>“Bloody hell, Tommy, what happened?” Phil asked, as he walked into the tent to meet the wide-eyed and guilt-ridden stares of Wilbur and Tubbo, who immediately rushed to greet him.</p><p>“How did you suddenly <em> disappear-” </em>Wilbur started.</p><p>“Is your hand <em> bleeding?  </em>What-” Tubbo interjected, but was cut off.</p><p>“Did you let go of my hand, Tommy, why would you do that-” Wilbur continued.</p><p>The sudden bombardment of questions caught Tommy off-guard, and he could only look at the floor, unresponsive. His head felt light and he could feel his eyes burning.</p><p>“-<em>Why, </em>Tommy, you knew how dangerous it was-”</p><p>“Actually, what happened Wilbur?” Phil came back with bandages and started wrapping Tommy’s palm.</p><p>“He pulled his hand out from my grasp and ran away, into the crowd. Merlin, Tommy, <em> why </em>?” Wilbur glared at Tommy. </p><p>Uncle Sparklez entered the tent, “Tommy, did you see anyone? Near the place where the Dark Mark - y’know, the green skull - was conjured, running away?”</p><p>“He was near that-”</p><p>“Yes-”</p><p>“Do you know how <em> dangerous-” </em></p><p>“Everyone keep quiet-”</p><p>“-You Know Who could’ve been there, someone could’ve gotten killed-”</p><p>“I SAID, KEEP QUIET!” Tubbo’s voice surprised the rest, who immediately shut their mouths. </p><p>Tommy was embarrassed to feel wetness on his cheeks. Somewhere among the chaos, he had started crying. Tubbo was next to him, and he could feel the ever-present grounding grip on his wrist.</p><p>“We’ll talk about this tomorrow - yes Wilbur, you shut up - Tommy and Tubbo, go and get some rest.” Phil said gently, and Sparklez left the tent. </p><p>Although back in the safety of his tent, Tommy was <em> terrified. </em> That invisible force had so effortlessly pulled him away from those who cared about him, and without bumping into the ministry officials, Tommy might’ve been completely lost, stranded in the dark forest whose trees yielded little clear paths. Or worse, that death eater might have killed him, could still kill him now, because he knew who Tommy was. </p><p>As a result, Tommy lay fully awake in his bunk, his heart pounding so loudly he wondered absently if Tubbo could hear it from where he lay above Tommy. He tossed and turned, wondering how to get rid of the fear that gripped him like frostbite, slowly spreading across his body, chilling him until he could scarcely move his fingers. The moment he closed his eyes, he could feel that invisible force again, feel the searing pain on his palm, and would force his eyes open to escape that hell. </p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>Tommy jolted so violently that the bunk bed shook, scrambling away from the source of the voice until he realised that it was just Tubbo, kneeling down beside his bed and looking at him with a gaze filled with unfiltered concern.</p><p>“Oi, why did you wake me up like that?” Tommy lied, with an air of fake annoyance. </p><p>“The bunk bed shifts whenever you move, Tommy, I know you’ve been awake,” replied Tubbo, not falling for it, “Are you okay?”</p><p>There was a silence when Tommy debated what to do. </p><p>“I’m scared, Tubbo,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper, as he sat up in bed and watched as his friend’s eyes widened. </p><p>“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Tubbo climbed into his bed and sat cross-legged, facing Tommy. </p><p>In as little words he could as possible, Tommy described what had happened. He was trembling when he finished, hyperventilating slightly. </p><p>“Hey, hey,” Tubbo shook his wrist slightly from where he’d grabbed it (it was becoming a habit by now, but Tommy didn’t dislike it.), “We’re safe now, the capable wizards are protecting us.” </p><p>“But that force-”</p><p>“Do you honestly think I’m going to let go of your wrist?” Tubbo said fiercely, “No, I’m not, and the force won’t beat my clinginess. I’d like to see the force <em> try. </em>”</p><p>Tommy smiled despite himself. Tubbo had a point, he <em> was </em> extremely clingy. </p><p>They sat like this for a long time, talking quietly, Tommy leaning against the wall, Tubbo leaning against the bed frame, their feet oriented perpendicular to each other. Eventually, they descended into silence, sitting companionably in the dark. Tommy drifted off, falling asleep, clinging onto the feeling of that hand around his wrist like a lifeline. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. I know that the space in the tent is probably not created, and is probably taken from somewhere (I'll research more on this) I think I vaguely remember Hermione telling Ron in book 7 that wizards couldn't actually produce matter, it had to come from somewhere. </p><p>2. A short canon summary of what happened at the Quidditch World Cup for those that didn't read Harry Potter: Basically, after the match that Harry attended, a death eater produced a Dark Mark in the air (Which is the mark of Voldemort, the main villain in the Harry Potter series.) This sent the message that Voldemort was returning, which scared many wizards. The death eater that Tommy bumped to is a non-canon character that I created for this story. </p><p>Thank you so much for reading! Hope you guys enjoyed it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They go back to school.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I apologise that this chapter is a little shorter than normal, life is busy. (More in the end notes!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tubbo woke up, his back hurting from leaning against the bedpost. He yawned, lifting his arm to stretch, before he realised his hand was still clutching Tommy’s wrist. The boy in question had collapsed properly onto the bed sometime during the night, and was curled around the hand that Tubbo was holding, his fluffy hair barely brushing his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning,” said Phil, interrupting him from his thoughts, “Actually, it’s already afternoon. I was just about to wake you two up but, this scene is a little too precious to interrupt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Precious?” Tubbo fake-gagged, embarrassed, “We’re not even touching!” This was true. Aside from the part where Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s wrist, Tommy lay about one inch from where Tubbo was seated. Tubbo wasn’t afraid of platonic affection, but Tommy seemed very averse to it. Tubbo didn’t want to embarrass his friend. As it was, Tubbo was afraid he’d invaded his friend’s personal space far too many times but luckily, Tommy appeared to have let it slide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil hummed, “Whatever you say. Wake Tommy up and get to packing, we’re leaving today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo let go of Tommy’s wrist and bounced out of the bed, poking Tommy as he did so. His best friend stirred, irritably swatting Tubbo’s hand away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They packed quickly and disassembled the tents, rolling them back into their cases. They travelled back to the hill where they had walked to from the house by portkey, and bid goodbye to Sparklez and his family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Along the way, Tommy had explained gravely what happened to him the night before to the rest of his family. They agreed that this was something worth writing to their parents about, but dangerous to report, since it meant that Tommy would have to be sent into questioning. As soon as they returned to the Soot residence, Phil went off to write the letter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo spent the rest of the summer completing (starting on) their homework, and teaching Tubbo how to use the broom. Tubbo had absolutely despised the Flying classes back at Hogwarts as his classmates liked to laugh at him then. Here at the residence, they could use Wilbur’s broom to fly in slow laps around the courtyard, and Tubbo found himself gradually improving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last few days of summer were blissful and none of them looked forward to going back to school. There was no response from Tommy’s parents, but the days of peace of being at home seemed to soothe Tommy a little. They read the news from the Daily Prophet of the incident at the Quidditch World Cup, and there were so many conspiracy articles on what the Dark Mark meant that soon Phil had banned them (for the time being) from reading the Daily Prophet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So much trash in there,” he explained, “This Rita Skeeter - causing so much unneeded chaos and uncertainty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sooner or later, it was time to go back to Hogwarts, and they bid goodbye to Agnes before they used floo powder to travel to King’s Cross. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss boarding that train,” Phil muttered enviously as Tommy, Tubbo and Wilbur hopped on. Phil had graduated the previous year, and missed Hogwarts already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stuck out his tongue while Tubbo smiled sympathetically. They waved goodbye to Phil as the train started moving, promising to write often. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One by one, more friends piled into Tommy and Tubbo’s compartment. Niki joined first, bashfully knocking on the compartment door and inquiring if they minded her presence. Fundy and Eret joined not long after, inviting themselves in, a complete opposite of what Niki had done. Sapnap appeared moments later, and soon the compartment became rather merry and full. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I haven’t heard from him all summer,” said Sapnap, when asked about Dream. Wilbur sighed, he had personally been writing letters to his only Slytherin friend himself, but had not received a response. Tommy and Tubbo exchanged glances when Dream was brought up - somehow, they had completely forgotten about their brief encounter at the Quidditch World Cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We bumped into him at the Quidditch World Cup,” said Tubbo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was being a</span>
  <em>
    <span> b</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” Tommy said a curse word, which was cut off by Wilbur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was at the Quidditch World Cup?” Wilbur interjected angrily, “You should’ve told me! I’m ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>clobber </span>
  </em>
  <span>him for not answering my letters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you guys just look for him now?” Niki said, peering anxiously at Wilbur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, I’ll go.” volunteered Sapnap. He stood up and left the compartment, calmly closing the door behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap was not calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, he was the opposite of calm, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>seething.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not at his best friend, but at what possibly happened to him. Sapnap knew Dream well enough to tell in one glance at the train platform earlier that he had changed, not for the better. His posture had been too stiff, too tight, his eyebrows pinched in a way that was unfamiliar as he stood facing his mother, hands clasped neatly behind his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream. They were childhood friends, after all, and had spent many days in each other’s company. Their parents were archetypal conservative pure-bloods, who believed strongly in the superiority of wizards of pure-blood descent. As a result, Dream and Sapnap had been brought up (luckily together) to follow their parents, to preserve the purity of the wizarding race.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of that had changed when Sapnap had been sorted into Gryffindor, and Dream met Wilbur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The exposure that they had gotten to other wizards from different backgrounds, particularly for Sapnap, was a culture shock. Being eleven and impressionable, their views of the world changed vastly in Hogwarts. Both realised that it didn’t matter the type of blood that a student had, he could still excel, perhaps even better than both of them. Their change in perceptions was catalysed by the fact that neither of them had been very close to their parents, who hadn’t spoken a kind word to them in a decade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a result, Sapnap didn’t intensely hate his house (as he was advised to by his parents), and Dream found a friend in kind half-blood Wilbur Soot, instead of the pure-blood Draco Malfoy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(If his house placement caused Sapnap to be disowned the moment he turned 12, Sapnap didn’t mind. He was sent to his Uncle’s house, which he preferred anyway.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking through the train, Sapnap brashly knocked on each compartment door, looking for his friend. He didn’t mind the weird looks that people sent him - who were they to judge? Slowly, methodically, he worked his way through the train. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello? Anyone there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had reached a compartment that seemed to be unresponsive to his knocks. He tried pushing the door open, but it did not budge. Frowning, he banged the door again, getting impatient. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door creaked open slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap?” A very familiar voice asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap grabbed the door and forced it open, coming face to face with Dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, Dream-” He began, and the boy in question quickly pulled him in, shutting the door behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The compartment was empty of other people, and the brown curtains by the windows were drawn tightly, hindering the passage of the  afternoon sun. Consequently, the room was bathed in semi-darkness, with sunlight through the small cracks at the edges of the curtains, highlighting the floor in strips. Dream stood facing Sapnap, and the light was enough to make out the scowl on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream looked immensely uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite this, no other form of emotion leaked out from Dream’s expression. Sapnap could only stare in silence as Dream relinquished his grip on his shoulder, moving to sit on the seat opposite him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in a long time, Sapnap could not identify what his friend was feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(For the record, Dream had one of the most expressive faces Sapnap had ever seen. As a child, he had never been able to lie to the people that knew him, given away by the way his eyebrows twitched as he was thinking. As they grew older, his expressions became less obvious, but Sapnap still read him like a book anyway.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Sapnap broke the silence once again, and Dream barely shifted. Another silence ensued. Sapnap felt as though the air in the train was suddenly being compressed, becoming so dense that it was difficult to breathe and think clearly. As the seconds ticked by, he felt himself growing in impatience as questions and anger built up in his head. However, he knew that his friend needed the time to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something really terrible had happened to Dream, and Sapnap desperately wanted to figure out what that was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then his best friend </span>
  <em>
    <span>melted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smiled, and it was filled with so much gratitude and loneliness that Sapnap felt the breath leave his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Sapnap,” Dream breathed out, and in his tone held the unspoken phrase of ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ Sapnap could only hold back a shudder. Dream scarcely greeted him like this, usually, it would be a half-hearted insult coupled with an arm slung around his shoulders. What had happened to Dream that had caused him to need Sapnap’s presence so badly?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swallowing his pride, he took the first step. Gently, he sat next to Dream on the compartment seat and wrapped his left arm around his best friend. Surprisingly, Dream did not taunt him like Sapnap had half-expected - the fear of reading the situation wrongly evaporated as Dream merely shifted closer, drawing his feet up onto the seat and curling into himself, burying his head into his arms. Such was a very un-Dream-like thing to do, to make himself smaller, when Dream usually tried to make his presence as large and domineering as possible. Sapnap knew in that moment that he was handling something very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>fragile. His best friend’s vulnerability was hanging from his fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tough summer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. Rita Skeeter: A Daily Prophet (Wizarding newspaper) journalist notorious for sensationalising every piece of news and exaggerating details. </p><p>2. This was a response to a comment, but I thought it would be useful to others that don't actually know the Harry Potter story that well but still read this fic anyway (I'm sorry if some of the events are a little confusing!)</p><p>In Harry Potter, there are wizards and witches (People who possess magic) and then there are muggles (People who don't, like us!). There are many more ordinary people (muggles) than extraordinary people (wizards).</p><p>However, it is possible for two ordinary people to give birth to a child that is extraordinary. In this case, the child would be called muggle-born, for his parents are both muggles. Tubbo is a muggle-born, but he is not a muggle for he possesses magic.</p><p>A wizard can be either a muggle-born, pure-blood or half-blood. A pure-blooded wizard is a wizard who has parents who are both pure-blooded wizards themselves, and this ancestry is often lauded by those on Voldemort's side to be the only ancestry they can accept because it is free from corruption from muggles. A half-blood is basically all other combinations of parents that are not the pure-blood x pure-blood combination or muggle x muggle combination.</p><p>Those on Voldemort's side detest muggle-borns, believing that they don't deserve to be real wizards. A crass and very derogatory term used to call muggle-borns is 'mud-blood'.</p><p>Do not hesitate to leave questions about the Harry Potter universe/canon plot down in the comments! I will answer them :) Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tubbo and Tommy play a prank, while Dream and George meet for the first time.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a little disclaimer that Dream and George are completely platonic in this story!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy looked at the door for the umpteenth time. Sapnap still had not returned.</p><p>In fact, he didn’t return, and they had to drag his suitcase out with the rest of theirs. The others didn’t seem to worry too much, too engrossed in their own conversations. Tubbo and Fundy, particularly, were hitting it off. </p><p>Tommy had to admit that he was feeling a little left out, but he would take that secret to the grave. </p><p>Following the crowds (and walking begrudgingly behind Tubbo), Tommy was led into a clearing where there were dozens of sleek, black carriages. The carriages appeared to be attached to something, but the reins of the carriage only led to thin air, suspended as if there was an invisible horse. </p><p>Upon noticing the carriages, Tubbo yelped and stopped so abruptly that Tommy walked right into him. </p><p>Tommy was about to yell at Tubbo before he noticed that his friend’s face had turned pale. He was grabbing Tommy’s sleeve, gesturing at the empty space between the carriages. </p><p>“Tommy, wh-what is that-”</p><p>“What is <em> what</em>, Tubbo?” Tommy snapped despite himself, his patience wearing thin from earlier events.</p><p>“The skeletons - no, horses, I don’t know what they are-”</p><p>“Thestrals.” A low voice boomed behind them. They turned around to see Technoblade, who was looking at Tubbo curiously. </p><p>“I don’t see anything!” Tommy muttered, frustrated. Was he going to be left out on this too?</p><p>“Neither do I,” Niki chimed in, “I’d always thought they were pulled by some sort of charm…”</p><p>“They’re only visible to those that have seen death.” said Techno. He chuckled at the incredulous looks the others gave him. They weren’t able to tell whether he was making his sarcastic quips, or was actually serious. </p><p>“Tubbo, you’ve seen <em> death</em>?” Niki gasped.</p><p>“I have no idea,” Tubbo shrugged, though Tommy had the distinct impression that his friend was lying. </p><p><em> Whatever, </em>Tommy thought, he was too tired and annoyed to think about this. </p><p>--</p><p>The welcoming feast passed without issue. It was almost the same as last year, except that Tommy now had Sapnap to talk to at his table. He’d seen Sapnap with Dream earlier, but the latter had yet to talk to the group. There was a transfer student by the name of George, who was sorted into Ravenclaw. Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care about that. </p><p>An interesting piece of news was announced by Dumbledore. The school was going to host the Triwizard Tournament, a tournament that was previously postponed because of the death toll, but the teachers seemed to believe that it would be possible to host it again with stricter safety measures. This meant that Hogwarts would be inviting students from two other European schools to join and spectate - Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The annual Quidditch Cup would not be held this year. </p><p>The feast ended with the unexpected arrival of a new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, who looked extremely peculiar. He had stringy grey hair, a pale face ridden with scars and most notably, his right eye was electric-blue and seemed to be revolving unnaturally where it was held in a transparent dome attached to his face. He limped into the Great Hall, wet from the rain, and caused quite a buzz amongst the students. </p><p>Throughout the month of September, Hogwarts was filled with excitement (predominantly from the older students) over the Triwizard tournament. Since each school had to send in a champion to participate, many older students were looking forward to being selected to compete. In addition, those above third-year were asked to bring dress robes, hinting that there was a formal social occasion to look forward to.</p><p>Tommy and Tubbo were rather apathetic towards the whole occasion, since they had little role to play as young second-years. They had better ways to spend their time than fussing over the Triwizard tournament - one such way was having fun with Mrs Norris. </p><p>Mrs Norris was Argus Filch’s cat. Like Filch, she displayed a nasty countenance, hissing at students who walked by and never ceasing to report any misdeeds that she witnessed to her owner. As such, she was heavily disliked by the student population. </p><p>Tommy and Tubbo spent a great deal of their time roaming the halls of Hogwarts, finding possible hiding spots and ways to play pranks. This resulted in quite a few unfortunate encounters with Mrs Norris, who liked to chase them out of deserted corridors that they settled in. </p><p>“Man… why can’t she be more like Crookshanks?” said Tubbo one day, after they were yet again forced to move from their peaceful lunch spot by Mrs Norris. </p><p>Tommy nodded grimly. They thought fondly of Hermione’s ginger cat, whom they had formed a unique bond with after the encounter with Sirius Black the year before. </p><p>“Tubbo, I want to do something to that bloody cat.” Tommy declared.</p><p>So they did. </p><p>The plan was to sneak up on Mrs Norris from behind (with the help of the ‘muffle’ charm that Tubbo had found the previous year), cast a voice-changing charm on her, and scarper. They realised that she liked to sit by a large window in the mid-afternoon, and the window led to the courtyard outside where they could escape. </p><p>They were met with a small problem as they hastily climbed out of the window after casting the charm, that the drop from the windowsill to the grassy floor below was a little larger than they had originally estimated. They had to make haste and jump, for Mrs Norris could spot them at any moment if they were not fast enough. </p><p>Fortunately for Tommy, he landed squarely on his feet on a nice patch of clean, short grass. Unfortunately for Tubbo, he fell into a bush, dirtying his robes and scratching his knees and elbows. Despite this, he scrambled out of the bush, running after Tommy.</p><p>When they were a considerable distance away, they paused to catch their breath. Tommy finally noticed his best friend’s state, and quickly pulled him to the washrooms to clean his wounds. </p><p>“Merlin, Tubbo, how did you manage to fall perfectly into that bush?” Tommy asked quizzically as Tubbo washed his elbows at the sink. </p><p>“It looked soft.” Was Tubbo’s only reply. He grinned at Tommy, fishing his pockets for any cloth to wrap his right knee that was bleeding, to no avail. </p><p>Sighing, Tommy took his own handkerchief out of his pocket and threw it at Tubbo’s head. </p><p>--</p><p>“WHO DID THIS?” Filch burst into the Great Hall, holding Mrs Norris carefully in his arms. </p><p>The student population, currently eating dinner, quietened at the sound of Filch’s voice.</p><p>“Did what?” McGonagall calmly asked.</p><p>The hall was quiet for a few seconds as the staff stared at Filch. </p><p>“MooOOOO~” the sound startled many, who immediately placed their forks down and craned their necks to see what had caused that noise. To their utter surprise, Mrs Norris’ mouth was open. Instead of the normal hissing and meowing that it produced, she moo-ed loudly as if a cow had taken control of her vocal chords.</p><p>Like a wave, giggles erupted within the students. Before long, the entire hall was filled with cackling laughter.</p><p>Two second-years from different tables met eyes across the distance and smiled. </p><p>--</p><p>The arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students occurred in October. Dream anticipated their arrival with a growing sickening feeling in his stomach. </p><p>Dream had experienced many things over the summer, one of which was the level of commitment of his Father and Mother towards Voldermort’s cause. They were sadistic Death Eaters, and had been in the group that attacked during the Quidditch World Cup. </p><p>The second thing that he had experienced was comprehensive Death Eater training. Although not an official member yet, he had met many of the prominent Death Eaters - Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, etc. Through these meetings he learnt that the best way to control his expression was to contort his face in an uncomfortable scowl. His duelling had also improved through countless drills - wand holding, side-stepping, curse casting. </p><p>Dream was finally met with the reality of it all. Gone were the days where he could step into Hogwarts and pretend that his background was fictitious, merely the essence of his nightmares. His days with Sapnap and Wilbur were like remnants of a lozenge long dissolved in his mouth, leaving nothing but the faint memory of minty sweetness behind. His role as a future Death Eater was set in stone; there was nothing he could do but to accept his cruel fate. </p><p>He’d considered many times to leave his household, but concluded that it was no longer possible - he knew too much. He’d seen his parents murder without batting an eyelid. With the information he now possessed, there was no way of escaping this without meeting death. </p><p>Dream held two secrets.</p><p>1) The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was actually a death eater impersonating a renowned auror.</p><p>2) Voldermort planned to murder Harry Potter in the third task of the Triwizard Tournament.</p><p>Not even Draco Malfoy knew these facts. Dream could tell no one, for he was sworn by the Unbreakable Vow. </p><p>Weighed down by these secrets, Dream resigned himself to hanging silently around Draco Malfoy and his friends. After giving Wilbur Soot the cold shoulder for two weeks, the boy had finally given up trying to approach him. He still stuck to Sapnap like a ghost, but could not bring himself to talk to any of his real friends. </p><p>Presently, Dream was drifting through the corridors aimlessly, thinking. He did a lot of thinking nowadays, now that he barely talked. It was in the evening, so most of the students were having their dinner in the Great Hall. The hallways were breezy and empty. </p><p>A murmured incantation and a burst of golden light hurtled towards Dream. He barely reacted in time to raise his wand and cast a wordless shield charm, narrowly dodging the spell. </p><p>“Amazing.”</p><p>Dream turned to face the source of the noise, arm raised carefully, ears and eyes alert. A boy with brown hair and eyes looked back at him. Dream recognised him as the transfer student, George. </p><p>“What the <em> hell </em>?” Dream spat out as threateningly as he could as he walked up to the boy, wand raised and pointed at his chest.</p><p>“Hold up, hold up,” George sputtered nervously, his bravado fading as his back hit the wall behind him, “that was nothing but a harmless cheering charm-”</p><p>“What are you trying to pull?” said Dream angrily.</p><p>“They said you were good at duelling!” George replied, “I wanted to see that for myself, I haven’t quite mastered wordless incantations yet… We don’t really learn that until Year 6, do we?”</p><p>“And you wanted to do that <em> by jinxing me</em>?”</p><p>“To see your reaction time.” said George, honest and blunt.</p><p>“With a <em> cheering charm</em>?”</p><p>“There are three people in this school that need it more than anyone else - Snape, Filch and you.” </p><p>The boy said it with so deadpan a voice that Dream couldn’t help but crack slightly. It started off with a twitching urge in his diaphragm to move, and before he could stop it, his breath came out of his nose in a wheeze. He failed to mask it with a cough - the boy in front was smiling. </p><p>“I’m George-” </p><p>“Get lost George, and try not to cast random charms on unsuspecting strangers to test your hypothesis, <em> idiot</em>.” Dream cut in, and briskly left. </p><p>--</p><p>It was unfortunate that Dream and George had lost the opportunity to firsthand hear the sound of Mrs Norris mooing. They nonetheless found out about it, for a few days after that, Hogwarts was still laughing about it. </p><p>The perpetrators were never discovered, as there were too many students who could’ve possibly done that. The two second-years were not on the radar of the Teachers for playing pranks, for they didn’t like to take credit for the pranks they had played in the past. It was hard to suspect them - the only possible evidence was the handkerchief wrapped around Tubbo’s knee, and their elbows and knees were covered by their robes most of the time. </p><p>Tommy noted a week later that his handkerchief had not been returned. Frowning, he made a mental note to ask Tubbo about it later. </p><p>Around the middle of October, Tommy received his first letter. They had been eating breakfast when the letter dropped in front of his plate. Swallowing his pumpkin juice, he opened it eagerly. </p><p>
  <em> Dear Tommy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Father and Mother replied to the letter I sent them regarding your encounter at the Quidditch World Cup. They said that there was no real cause for worry, and that they would investigate it the ways they knew how to the best of their ability. Don’t worry too much about it, Tommy, you’re safe at Hogwarts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How are you? Are you and Tubbo fine? Why am I even asking, I know you two are - you have each other.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wilbur is… it would be good if you could help me check on him. Things aren’t going so smoothly and I know it is hard for you two to communicate in school with vastly different schedules. He wrote to me once in the past month and sounded so lonely. I’m so worried for him. Please exercise your discretion, Tommy, and don’t tell him I asked you to check on him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don’t hesitate to write to me if you need help. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Love, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Phil. </em>
</p><p>Frowning at the contents of his letter, he drank up his pumpkin juice and got up, walking unabashedly towards the Ravenclaw table. </p><p>He plopped down in a free seat next to Tubbo, ignoring the stares sent his way. Tubbo, who looked ready to faceplant into his sandwich, didn’t notice his presence until Tommy poked him in the side. </p><p>Tubbo yelped and turned to face him. </p><p>“Letter from Phil,” Tommy stated, pushing the letter to Tubbo. He reached over and stole a sip from Tubbo’s glass (Tommy really liked pumpkin juice), before levelling a glare at the nosy Ravenclaws, who took that as a hint to look away. </p><p>Tubbo’s eyebrows were creased with worry when he finished reading. He stood up from the table, Tommy following suit. </p><p>“Have you talked to Wilbur recently?” Tubbo asked when they had acquired some level of privacy.</p><p>Tommy shook his head. It was usually Wilbur who found him and made the initiative to talk in Hogwarts, not the other way around. </p><p>“Your parents are very powerful aurors, aren’t they?” continued Tubbo, “I’m sure they’ll find out what happened to you at the Quidditch World Cup-”</p><p>“That’s only if they cared enough,” Tommy stated bitterly, “I bet they won’t.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“They’ve never cared about us - not me, not Wilbur, not Phil. What makes you think they’ll care now?” </p><p>Tubbo couldn’t think of an answer.</p><p>--</p><p>Tommy found Wilbur in the library. </p><p>He was sitting alone at a table, a few books open in front of him, though he didn’t appear to be reading. Instead, his head was on the table and he was staring sideways into space. </p><p>Tommy sat down awkwardly next to his brother.</p><p>Wilbur shifted and faced him. </p><p>“Hey Wilbur,” said Tommy. He crossed his arms and looked at the books his brother was reading. They had something to do with muggle music.</p><p>“Did something happen?” Wilbur asked concernedly, sitting up and attempting to put an arm around Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy cringed and shifted away.</p><p><em> It’s something about you, silly, </em>Tommy thought.</p><p>“What happened with Dream?” Tommy inquired. He wasn’t blind enough to not notice the fact that the blond had not said a single word to him in the past month, and Sapnap was unwilling to give any information regarding his best friend. </p><p>“He decided to become an arse,” Wilbur replied, running his hand through his hair, “He’s been ignoring me.”</p><p>“I see-”</p><p>“No idea what’s going on with him, <em> honestly, </em> he hated the other Slytherins as much as I did… I don’t understand why he would choose <em> them</em>...”</p><p>“Well-”</p><p>“Am I not good enough, Tommy?” Wilbur was staring at him now, eyes wide and filled with sorrow. </p><p>Tommy scoffed. So <em> that </em>was what the problem was about? He pushed his brother roughly by the shoulder.</p><p>“Of course you are Wilbur,” he slammed his left hand on the table for emphasis, “Quit moping! You have Fundy and Eret for friends, and Sapnap too, and Niki <em> adores </em> you-”</p><p>“You-”</p><p>“-hate seeing you in self-pity honestly. Why is Dream’s opinion more worthy of consideration than any of the others around you? Seriously, Wilbur, get up and let’s go fly around the quidditch pitch.” Tommy picked up Wilbur’s books and arranged them neatly in a pile. </p><p>Choosing not to notice the fond smile that his brother sent him, Tommy marched out of the library with Wilbur in tow, feeling proud of himself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Argus Filch is the caretaker of Hogwarts. He enjoys disciplining students for carrying out misdeeds, and his cat, Mrs Norris, spies on the students for him.</p><p>Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Previously, I've only been posting approximately once a week on weekends. I got a little bit of inspiration recently, and wrote a little more than I usually would, so I might post another chapter about three days later (If the inspiration continues). Thank you so much for reading this, and for all those who comment! </p><p>Quick question: Do you guys prefer frequent updates, or updates that take longer but come with longer chapters?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dream bumps into George again. Tubbo and Tommy have their first fight (and resolve it).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a slightly longer chapter than usual (about 4k words) hope you guys enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A day after the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students arrived, Harry Potter’s name was drawn from the Goblet of Fire, indicating that he was to become one of the Triwizard champions - a spot reserved only for seventh-years. (Harry Potter was in Year 4)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were outraged by the fact that Hogwarts sent two champions, which doubled the chances of Hogwarts winning the tournament. A large proportion of the students of Hogwarts looked at Harry Potter with a mixture of jealousy and distaste, since it looked like he was trying to attain more glory and fame. In particular, the Hufflepuffs felt like Harry Potter was trying to steal the limelight away from Cedric Diggory, the seventh-year Hufflepuff that had been chosen to be the Hogwarts champion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This resulted in approximately half of the student population donning ‘SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY’ badges, that when pressed, wrote ‘POTTER STINKS’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The main characters of this story mainly stayed away from the tension, as they preferred not to concern themselves with the drama revolving around Harry Potter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They also had their own problems to deal with, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was walking around the castle grounds and got lost, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The moving staircases were something that George had yet to get used to. They moved counter-clockwise every seven hours, and caused George to confuse the hallways. It didn’t help that there was no official map for Hogwarts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked past the Divination classroom when he spotted a familiar head of blond hair. The Slytherin appeared to be looking into the Divination classroom, but on closer inspection, his eyes were unfocused, suggesting that he was deep in thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George regarded Dream with an odd mixture of curiosity, respect and fear. He was curious to know more about the Slytherin, who hung out with the friendly Gryffindor Sapnap, despite being close to the Slytherins who hated Gryffindor. He was also rumoured to have duelling skills that well surpassed his age, something that George had proven when he had his first encounter with Dream a few weeks before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was fearful of the blond, especially since his face seemed to be incapable of changing. George wasn’t sure whether he’d seen him smile even once - his face always held the same impassioned scowl, be it at meals or in classrooms. George had been observing Dream carefully. He admitted to himself that it was a little weird to be looking at a stranger, but curiosity and observance were part of George’s nature. Perhaps that was why he had been sorted into Ravenclaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only time that George had seen Dream’s face change and consequently knew that he was capable of feeling was when Dream had wheezed in his face during that brief encounter they had in the middle of October. It wasn’t much, and it could’ve been George over-analysing, but he was quite certain that it was a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George also wasn’t unconfident in his comedic ability - he was aware that his dry sense of humour was well-appreciated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was for these reasons that George decided to approach the Slytherin, despite being told on no uncertain terms to get lost the last time he had talked to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Dream,” George said as smoothly as he would when talking to a friend. Dream turned around. Upon spotting George, he began to walk away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was undeterred by this. Reaching out, he grabbed Dream’s arm, preventing him from escaping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you?” George asked pleasantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Dream snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lovely weather today, right?” Pulling Dream along, George forced them into a stroll down the corridor, putting on his best polite voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he received no response, George continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks like the perfect day for tea-drinking. Hogwarts has the best tea, in my opinion. There’s just something about the way the leaves are leached of their flavour…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused and looked at Dream, delighted to notice that the scowl on his face was fading slightly, allowing perplexity to leak out through the cracks in his mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What student drinks tea because of the weather?” Dream finally replied. It was meant to be an insult, but George didn’t let it bother him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What student doesn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see my friends drink because of the weather-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plebeians.” George shook his head, “Uncultured people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” Dream butt in, his voice laced with irritation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, you have time to learn,” George smirked condescendingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George relinquished his grip on Dream’s arm and walked off to the library, leaving the blond in confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream couldn’t decide whether to be irritated by George, or to be completely and utterly intrigued by the antics of the transfer student. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not only did George approach him with no reason and leave after an insult, the boy didn’t seem to forget about it. Such was apparent the next morning when said person bumped into him and said three words:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Earl Grey tea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So shocked Dream was that he choked on his toast, coughing as he turned to look at the brown haired boy, who only shot him an innocent smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream darkened his scowl and went back to eating his breakfast. If he looked up to the ceiling of the Great Hall to check the weather, well, no one would know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy and Tubbo were on the precipice of what could be considered their first real fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>November had come, and as the weather grew colder, Tommy was getting slightly less hated by his classmates. His brash personality that previously rubbed people the wrong way, was now perceived as funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy was naturally attention-seeking by heart, and with the slightly increased attention, his old desires in the previous year to portray himself as an “alpha male” were reignited. This, coupled with Tommy’s inability to keep his mouth shut, resulted in him accidentally embarrassing Tubbo in front of the rest of the class during a Flying lesson.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And get this,” Tommy was saying, much to the chagrin of Tubbo, “He didn’t know how to stop the broom, so he just flew around in circles until my brother grabbed it and he tumbled off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws burst into laughter. Normally, Tubbo could tolerate Tommy’s antics, but today was not a good day for him. He had somehow fallen asleep on the floor of his dormitory and awoken with stiff joints and aching limbs, and the scratch at the back of his throat was indicative of an oncoming cold. To top it off, he was late for breakfast, and thus missed his daily dose of tea in the morning which supplied him with enough caffeine to stay awake throughout the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment the lesson ended, his friend approached him, sensing the change in mood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo, you okay?” Tommy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo ignored him, changing into his normal school robes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been ignoring me the entire lesson,” said Tommy exasperatedly, “Stop being annoying and talk to me-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would if you didn’t make fun of me in front of the entire class!” Tubbo snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a long time since Tubbo had raised his voice at Tommy. This triggered Tommy’s immaturity, as he immediately switched to defensive mode. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Made fun of you? It was just a funny story-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some stories are meant to be kept between us-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, what am I supposed to think? You didn’t tell me to keep it a secret!” Tommy roared, “What, do you expect me to have telepathy or something? To be able to read your mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>suck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” said Tubbo quietly and left the room, leaving his best friend gaping at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their fight had officially started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few lessons with Gryffindor were very peculiar. Tubbo and Tommy still sat at the same table in the lessons that they shared, except now there was a metre gap between them. Tubbo felt like his head was about to combust, though he wasn’t sure whether it was from his cold or was from the anxiety that he felt while ignoringTommy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo was mad at his friend, yes, but he didn’t like fights. Not one bit. Especially not when he was dizzy and cold and the words in his textbooks didn’t make sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the last lesson of the day, Tubbo wanted nothing but to retreat to the serenity of his dormitory and sleep. It was Potions, he realised with a start, and groaned. Potions was one of the subjects he focused on, for two reasons: He liked potions, and he wanted to avoid the wrath of Snape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was yet another lesson with Gryffindor. Tommy and Tubbo dragged their stools reluctantly to the table and sat in sullen silence. Throughout the lesson, Tubbo could scarcely concentrate on his potion. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps I should apologise first, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I did overreact. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed and turned to Tommy, ready to say something, when a shadow passed over the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snape was looking down at Tubbo’s potion, squinting at it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got the anti-paralysis potion completely wrong, Simons,” hissed Snape, “The dittany is put in too early, you didn’t stir it enough times, and you haven’t added the grounded mandrake root.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo froze. This was the first time that Snape had criticised his potions - he usually only provided curt feedback. His hands began trembling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten points from Ravenclaw for slacking off, Simons, and detention for you. Meet me in the dungeons later.” Snape started to move away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo snuck a glance at Tommy. His best friend looked outraged, staring at his and the other classmates’ potions which were varying shades of green, all obviously worse than what Tubbo had created. Tommy opened his mouth to retort angrily-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t land all of us in detention,” Tubbo mumbled, “‘s not worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked at Tubbo with wide eyes, and looked like he was about to say something, but Snape walked by again and they were forced to keep quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Potions was over, Tubbo ignored the itching curiosity to find out whether Tommy would talk to him, and rushed back to his dormitory, where he could finally collapse, exhausted, into the warm comforts of his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to go and apologise to him.” Wilbur said firmly, staring disapprovingly at Tommy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he was the one overreacting!” Tommy whined, “It wasn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> embarrassing-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did nothing wrong, Tommy, he lashed out at you because he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You would understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy was fuming, but there was no disagreeing with Wilbur when he had that tone, and certainly not when Tommy did indeed feel a little guilty. Just a little bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I want you to go to Tubbo, apologise, tell him he’s a real funny and nice guy, that you appreciate him.” Wilbur concluded, “Go and do it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy groaned and left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo trudged miserably down to the Dungeons in the evening. He had managed to sleep for three hours, but it had done little in relieving him of his headache. His movements were slow and sluggish, and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Expecting a mundane task like sorting out the files in Snape’s office, he was surprised when he pushed open the door and saw the Professor seated in front of a cauldron filled with bubbling purple liquid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Simons, come here and brew the anti-paralysis potion from earlier.” Snape commanded, pointing to the table opposite him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes profess-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir. You address me as Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Sir,” Tubbo stammered, and made his way to the bench that Snape was pointing at. Taking in a deep breath, he willed his brain to focus, trying his best to complete the task at hand. The next few moments were filled with quiet except for the sounds of Tubbo working, as he chopped and measured the ingredients necessary for the potion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact that Tubbo had to cough into his elbow every two minutes, his potion was relatively successful. Trembling slightly, he poured his potion into a flask and presented it to Snape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shoulders sagged with relief when the Professor placed the flask on the table, giving no dissatisfied comment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snape walked to the cauldron nearby, which was currently filled with simmering purple syrup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This here is a Sleeping Draught in progress. The effects of this potion are relieving a person of his mental trauma and thoughts, enough to lull him into dreamless sleep - though it should not cause irreparable damage on his memory. I have added flobberworm mucus and lavender thus far. The ingredients for completing this potion are laid out on the bench here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo nodded. His head had been spinning, but the excitement he had towards the challenge presented to him filled him with enough adrenaline to forget his headache temporarily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you recognise these ingredients?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I recognise the Standard Ingredient, Sir,” Tubbo pointed at the familiar mixture of dried herbs, used in many potions, “But not the plant,” He pointed at the dried flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Valerian Sprigs. Known to induce forgetfulness in humans.” Snape replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, is it possible, no, may I ask a question before-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Standard Ingredient helps us to control the effect of the other ingredients we put in the potion. The more we put in, the weaker the effect of the Valerian Sprigs. Is there a measurement for the amount I should put in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thirty grams should suffice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo added in the Standard Ingredient the way he had learnt in basic potions, stirring three times clockwise, adding in the Valerian Sprigs, and stirring three times anti-clockwise. This was a basic skill that they had learnt in their prior classes. He realised with a start that Snape had completed the difficult steps in making the Sleeping Draught for him - that this was not an impossible test for a second-year, but merely a test of his inferential and application skills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled when the potion turned the correct shade of purple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snape nodded once at his potion, and did nothing else. His black beady eyes were filled with nothing but cold indifference, but Tubbo felt that his actions contradicted this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your lack of knowledge of Valerian Sprigs proves that you must read more,” said Snape. His tone was harsh, but there was surprisingly no verbal abuse in his statement. He walked to his desk and pulled out a book, handing them to Tubbo, who watched in awe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the textbook for Year Three. Sit down over there and read it. You may leave in an hour.” Tubbo accepted the textbook mechanically and sat down in the corner. He snuck an occasional glance at the greasy-haired Professor, but he was deep in marking essays.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of staying for an hour, Tubbo unintentionally stayed in the Potions classroom for two. He was comfortably perched on the soft wooden stool, the aroma of dried herbs and potions ingredients wafting through the air, filling him with serenity. He was jerked out of concentration at last when Snape called him to the front. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep the textbook and return it when you are done.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Sir-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speak of this, and I will never give you another lesson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo complied and dashed out of the classroom, book in hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy had been pacing the Dungeon level at hourly intervals, waiting for Tubbo to get out of Detention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was nearly 10pm when he spotted his friend leaving the Potions classroom, a book under his arm. He swallowed nervously and called out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy!” To his surprise, Tubbo ran to Tommy as if he had completely forgotten about the fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll never guess what just happened,” Tubbo lowered his voice and started skipping towards the stairs, beckoning Tommy to follow him. Tommy followed wordlessly, noting that Tubbo’s face was a little pale and his voice seemed hoarser than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got </span>
  <em>
    <span>this,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Tubbo showed him the book he was holding once they were out of the Dungeons, “The textbook for third years from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Snape! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Don’t tell anyone please, or he’d kill me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had unconsciously walked to the place where they usually sat, one of the windows near the door to the courtyard. They sat there now, Tommy listening to Tubbo as he rambled about his experience during Detention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo, about earlier-” Tommy began</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. We’re supposed to be angry at each other, aren’t we?” Tubbo cut in, eyes lighting up with realisation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah.” Tommy replied awkwardly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tubbo thought. He had somehow completely forgotten that he was supposed to be angry with his best friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was extremely hard to concentrate. Tubbo saw the edges of his vision blurring as he looked down at his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was suddenly met with an onslaught of black dots in his vision, as he felt a swooping, sickening sensation as if the blood had flowed from his brain all the way to his legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were open, but he could no longer see. The black dots had completely blocked his vision, and he felt his body tilting sideways, before he succumbed to the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo felt warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had not yet made the effort to open his eyes, but distinctly he felt like he had been wrapped in a blanket, and there was a heavy, reassuring weight on his shoulders. There were voices around him, but he was too tired to recognise them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure there’s nothing else wrong with him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing to worry about, my dear, just a case of Hypothermia. Dangerous to muggles, but easily solved for wizards.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With great effort, Tubbo opened his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did a great job bringing him here,” said Madam Promfrey, the matron of Hogwarts. “Oh you’re awake!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bustled off to get something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo blinked wearily. He was seated in a chair in what seemed to be the Hospital Wing, wrapped so tightly in an unknown number of thick blankets that it was difficult to move. He was leaning slightly against Tommy who was seated next to him, arm around his shoulder for support. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” asked Tubbo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You passed out. Your skin was ice-cold, so Madam Pomfrey said you’d gotten hypothermia.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madam Pomfrey returned with a cup of hot liquid. And instructed him to sip it. There was a little bit of floundering around as Tubbo attempted to extract his hands from the mess of the blanket, before she sat down herself and held the cup to his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he drank the potion, he felt his entire body warm up, steam escaping his ears and nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you should be fine soon.” said Madam Pomfrey, “You will stay here, however, until you warm up enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hypothermia?” Tubbo couldn’t help but ask, “I didn’t drop into cold water…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exhaustion hypothermia,” she stated, “occurs when your body is too weak to thermoregulate, Simons. It seems like you’d had a cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too weak to thermoregulate. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was chilly in the hospital that night. The electric heaters, although blowing out warm air at full blast, were insufficient to drive the cold out of the hospital. It was snowing heavily outside, and some of the snow was driven through the cracks in the window frame on the furthest wall. Ten-year-old Tubbo helped his mother carry the freshly-boiled kettle of hot water around as she tended to her patients. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You see that window over there, Tubbo? Help me put more blankets over the patients in those beds.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo dutifully took the bundle of cloth his mother gave him, and set to gently placing them over the sleeping patients. When he reached the bed nearest the wall, he accidentally bumped his hand against the knuckles of the bedridden patient, which had been hanging off the bed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo drew his hand back. It was far colder than his own hand. It was approximately the temperature of the bedpost. He knew immediately that there was something wrong. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mother!” He called out, “There’s a patient over here that’s awfully cold!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His mother rushed over. Pushing the blankets off, she placed her fingers against the pulse-point in the neck of the patient, who was a young woman. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She shook her head. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In a flurry of action, two other nurses came and assisted his mother in getting the patient off the bed. Tubbo was sent to continue boiling water. He watched as the bed was vacated, the sheets stripped off, until there was nothing left but an empty bed frame holding a naked mattress. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He asked his mother what happened later on, when they were driving home at dawn. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But why couldn’t she warm up, Mother? Why couldn’t she thermo-thermoregu-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thermoregulate. She was too weak, Tubbo, too weak.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His mother said this with a steady voice, but her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo concluded that day that there were too many people who needed saving, and not nearly enough power to save them all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So all I have to do is drink this potion, and I’ll be okay?” Tubbo asked, having finally extracted his hands from his blanket, accepted the second cup that Madam Pomfrey gave him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madam Pomfrey nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy burst in, “And you need to warm up, Tubbo, how the hell did you manage to get so </span>
  <em>
    <span>cold </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Hogwarts of all places-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fell asleep on the floor last night.” Tubbo said cheerfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You- what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Without a blanket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>pants </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo, Phil is going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill </span>
  </em>
  <span>you if he hears about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would Phil find out?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo smiled innocently as Tommy sputtered. He expected his best friend to back down, for they usually didn’t rat each other out to the adults. However, in Tommy’s eyes emerged steely determination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d tell him.” Tommy declared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tommy-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the floor Tubbo, without a blanket. Seriously Tubbo, do you need Wilbur to personally walk you to bed every night, just to make sure you sleep? Hell, do you need </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not, I don’t need to be babied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says the baby here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Scuse me Tommy, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>older </span>
  </em>
  <span>than you, you don’t need to take care of me like you’re some big brother-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then tell me why I had to carry my unconscious best friend to the hospital wing, all because he didn’t have the guts to tell other people</span>
  <em>
    <span> that he wasn’t feeling well.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo fell silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Had to carry you like a sack of potatoes on my back,” Tommy continued raving, “and we had to wrap you up in the blankets and hold you because you weren’t waking up. It’s been two hours, Tubbo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soot, calm down or I’ll have to send you out of the Hospital Wing.” Madam Pomfrey interrupted firmly, “And there is no cause for worry. As I said, I didn’t wake Simons up because there was no cause to, and he needed the sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep. Deprivation.” Tommy continued, ignoring her, “Must you really read your books at night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madam Pomfrey grabbed Tommy by the shoulder and took him to the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go and sleep on that bed, Simons, before I have to force you into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo climbed into the bed, and Pomfrey snuffed out the lamps. Bathed in darkness, Tubbo couldn’t sleep. His body wanted him to, but his mind kept him awake. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I still haven’t apologised, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, fiddling with the edge of his blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long he waited in the darkness, but the tell-tale sound of the door opening and shutting was heard. There was the sound of shuffling footsteps, and then a creak as someone sat in the chair next to Tubbo’s bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Tommy,” he said without thinking, without turning around. There was a sigh, and then a hand reached out and awkwardly patted him on the head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For this morning, for being shit.” He continued. The hand drew away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for being an arse this morning too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled around and faced Tommy. The moonlight illuminated his friend’s face, highlighting his pinched eyebrows and awkward frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should go before she catches you,” said Tubbo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care, Tubbo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll lose house points, they’ll hate you even more-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to sleep.” Tommy muttered, with an air of finality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo gladly did. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have to say, this must be my favourite chapter I have written so far. Thank you for reading this :) As always, comments are greatly appreciated as they really make my day, and feel free to ask any questions too! (Sorry for the short end note, life is busy.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They attend the Yule Ball.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter basically sets in stone how OOC I have made all of them in this story... it's a bit difficult trying to balance between the plot of this story and the plot of the actual Dream SMP haha. </p><p>The short dialogue between Tommy, Tubbo and Wilbur are inspired by that stream that they had in MCC with pokimane. </p><p>Wilbur and Niki interactions in this chapter are inspired by that random stream they had in Germany where they played guitar together. Despite the fact that they would be really adorable together, they are completely platonic in this story :) </p><p>Also, I know that George and Dream have a completely different dynamic from the one portrayed here, but I've got to develop their friendship slowly to reach that level.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth-years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish-”</p><p>Wilbur looked up from his Transfiguration textbook, brain slowly registering the words. </p><p>“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor McGonagall continued, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight, in the Great Hall-” </p><p>Wilbur turned to look at Sapnap, who wore a matching expression of horror on his face. </p><p>“We will not be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts Students.” She turned towards the Gryffindors, “I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarasses the school in any way.” </p><p>The bell rang. </p><p>“So <em> that's </em> what the dress robes were for?” Wilbur choked out. </p><p>“For a bloody<em> ball</em>?” said Sapnap, equally incredulous. </p><p>They stopped at the door. </p><p>“Does that mean we have to… go with a girl? F-find a partner?” said Wilbur, his voice going up by half an octave. </p><p>Sapnap could only nod. </p><p>--</p><p>Tommy was cackling. </p><p>He laughed so hard he flopped onto the ground, backwards, from where he was seated cross-legged playing wizarding chess with Tubbo. Wilbur wanted to strangle him, but he knew he couldn’t be liable for harming someone younger than him, so he settled for throwing a parchment ball at his younger brother. </p><p>“That sounds horrible, Wilbur,” Tubbo, ever the polite one, tried his best. Wilbur could see that he was holding back a smile. He appreciated Tubbo’s effort in not laughing at his predicament. </p><p>“Imagine, Tubbo,” said Tommy, in between laughs, “Wilbur in his dress robes, dancing with a <em> woman. </em> Oh, it’s going to be so <em> awkward </em>for you Wilbur, right Tubbo?” </p><p>There was a moment when both of them looked expectantly at Tubbo, wondering which side he would choose - Wilbur’s or Tommy’s.</p><p>Wilbur put on the best pout that he could. </p><p>“Yeah, it’s going to be <em> so </em> awkward for you Wilbur.” Tubbo cracked, and grinned at Wilbur.</p><p>Wilbur sighed. What was he thinking? Of course Tubbo would choose his best friend. </p><p>“So awkward, Wilbur, I can’t imagine why you would choose to dance with anyone other than the Queen.” Tommy continued. </p><p>“Who’s the Queen?” asked Wilbur. Four years of being in Hogwarts meant that he had almost completely forgotten the important people in the muggle world. </p><p>Tommy and Tubbo gasped at the same time, and turned away, deciding to ignore Wilbur in favour of their Wizarding Chess game. </p><p>--</p><p>“You could just go with Niki, y’know,” Eret remarked one day when Wilbur approached him, full of woes over his difficulty finding a partner. </p><p>“Isn’t she a little young?” said Wilbur worriedly, “I wouldn’t want to pressure her into going for something she doesn’t want to attend…” </p><p>Eret turned towards him, raising his eyebrow. </p><p>“Wilbur, she’s one year younger than you,” said Eret incredulously, “You’ve gotta stop treating everyone like they’re your younger siblings.”</p><p>Wilbur swallowed nervously. Indeed, he viewed Tommy, Niki and Tubbo as children that he needed to protect. </p><p>“You don’t even know whether she wants to attend the ball,” Eret continued, “there’re plenty of juniors dying to go - it’s a party, not everyone is as antisocial as you are.” </p><p>At that moment, as if summoned by magic itself, Niki appeared in the hallway, walking with one of her friends. </p><p>Eret forcefully pushed Wilbur towards the two girls, muttering something about seizing the opportunity. </p><p>“Hey Wilbur!” Niki greeted, smiling sweetly.</p><p>“Hey, I was wondering, uh, if you would want to attend the Yule ball with me.” Wilbur said nervously.</p><p>“Oh, no not as that,” he added hurriedly when Niki started blushing and her friend started giggling, “as friends - I mean, if you’re worried I’ll protect you from uh random people - o-of course if you don’t want to go it’s perfectly fine-”</p><p>“Of course Wilbur, we can go as friends,” Niki beamed at him, her blush disappearing in the face of Wilbur’s obvious anxiety. </p><p>“Great.” Wilbur grinned and waved as she walked off. This was less awkward than he thought it’d be, there was something about Niki’s aura that soothed him. He knew that she would never make fun of him. </p><p>Eret clapped him on the back. </p><p>--</p><p>Wilbur did not regret his decision to go with Niki. </p><p>After staying in the crowded hall for a total of ten minutes, chatting with random friends, he and Niki decided to leave the dance floor for the garden in the entrance hall, drinks in hand. They both agreed that the music played by the Weird Sisters was a little too loud, and they needed to leave to protect their eardrums. </p><p>Although the air in the Entrance Hall was cooler, it was crisp and fresh, filled with the refreshing scent of green leaves and damp soil. There was plenty of space to walk around here, so Wilbur and Niki sat themselves down on a bench that was obscured by a sufficient amount of greenery. </p><p>For a while they chatted about nothing much in particular, just little things about (certain) teachers’ quirks and experiences in Hogwarts. Wilbur hadn’t had an opportunity to have a proper, one-on-one conversation with Niki prior to this, and he found himself wondering why he hadn’t done so before. Slowly, their conversation drifted towards music, and he was surprised to find that they shared a vested interest in muggle music. </p><p>“I like the acoustic guitar the most,” said Niki, leaning back against the bench and looking at the sky through the transparent ceiling, “I used to play it all the time, but it’s a little difficult to bring it to Hogwarts, so I’ve gotten a little rusty-”</p><p>“You have an acoustic guitar?” Wilbur sat up straight, looking at her in awe. </p><p>“Yeah!” she replied, “I know it’s a little weird to play it, I know most wizards don’t really learn muggle instruments…” </p><p>“Niki, I’m going to go and get something, wait here.” Wilbur stood up and ran towards the dungeons, heart beating quickly in his chest. He’d never told anyone about this before, but somehow his conversation with Niki had awakened in him some kind of longing to share his secret. Opening the door to his dormitory, he pulled open a drawer and retrieved a palm-sized object.</p><p>The object in question was a stolen guitar. As he held the instrument in his hands, he recalled how he had acquired it. </p><p>
  <em> It was a hot summer afternoon. Ten-year-old Wilbur was crouching in a bush, hidden while staring longingly at a muggle fair. It seemed to be a fair to sell second-hand goods, and many adults had set up tables filled with all sorts of interesting things, ranging from dusty lamps to beautiful instruments.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wilbur was eyeing one instrument in particular. It was a guitar (or at least, that was what Wilbur remembered from his music textbook) made of spruce, simple but elegant. Wilbur had heard the sound of the ukelele from his music lessons in school, but didn’t get a chance to try it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He remembered asking Agnes about it a few weeks prior. She’d replied that Wizards didn’t really learn muggle instruments - there was really no point if they could bewitch the instruments to play themselves. This had made Wilbur flush with embarrassment, worried that he wasn’t going to become a wizard. At the age of ten, Wilbur had not yet displayed signs of magic, which was indicative of the possibility that he would become a squib. It was particularly embarrassing when Tommy, at turning seven, displayed a sign of magic when he accidentally overturned his cereal bowl without touching it in a fit of anger.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As he sat in the bush contemplating, he wondered what it would be like to live as a squib. He certainly wouldn’t be allowed to attend Hogwarts like his brothers, but if being a squib meant that he could live as a muggle, playing instruments like them, maybe it would be alright? He clenched his fist and continued staring at the glossy guitar.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The fair had been going on for three days, and the guitar had not been sold. Wilbur knew so because he’d gone back to his hiding spot as often as he could, just to make sure that the guitar remained there.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Just as his eyes were getting blurry and he was considering leaving - the fair was going to end soon, he noticed a middle-aged muggle talking to the guitar owner, gesturing at the guitar. His heart rate instantly increased; was the guitar going to be sold?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> At that instant, a great wind blew, knocking many items off the tables of the store-owners, the guitar included. Whilst the rest of the objects obeyed the laws of physics and stayed on the ground after the initial impact, the guitar continued moving, unnaturally so, towards the bush that Wilbur was hiding in. The muggles were so preoccupied with picking the objects off the ground that no one seemed to notice the guitar sliding across the heat-baked earth, closer and closer to Wilbur’s reach.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Acting on instinct, Wilbur sprung out of the bush, grabbed the guitar by the handle and ran. He didn’t pause to look back, sprinting away with the object of his desires clutched tightly to his chest. He didn’t stop until he was sure he’d gotten away, when he collapsed on the swings of a near-deserted playground. Brushing twigs off his shorts and shirt, Wilbur caught his breath, the effect of adrenaline ebbing away, replaced with the euphoria of succeeding in his quest.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He turned the guitar around in his hands, marvelling at how big it was close up, so big that he struggled slightly balancing it properly in his tiny lap. Trembling, he reached his finger out and plucked a string. The sound of the note, the slight vibration of the large instrument in his lap, the smell of the wood of the guitar filled Wilbur with a sense of satisfaction that he’d never experienced before. Again and again he plucked the strings, experimenting with the six different strings, enjoying the pleasant dissonance when he strummed all of them at once.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wilbur had no idea how long he sat there in the swings, plucking the strings and listening to the sounds they produced. He came to his senses eventually, when he realised that he’d better bring the guitar home - there was no telling whether the muggles would recognise it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As he snuck the guitar into his home, hiding it underneath his bed, he realised with a start that whatever happened there must have been magic.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’d done magic.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He was going to be a wizard! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As he was called for dinner by Agnes a few moments later, Wilbur noted that the food that he had eaten had never tasted better.  </em>
</p><p>After placing the shrunken guitar into his pocket, Wilbur ran down the steps towards the Entrance Hall, feeling an excitement great enough to rival the feeling that he had experienced when he initially stole the guitar. </p><p>Breathless, he approached Niki in the garden and tugged at her sleeve, beckoning her to follow him. “People would hear us,” he explained, gesturing at how there were more students in the garden now, seeking quiet from the crowded and noisy dance floor. </p><p>They found a secluded spot, near one of the large windows, on the steps to the astronomy tower. Wilbur took the guitar out of his pocket and tapped it with his wand, enlarging it. </p><p>“A guitar!” Niki exclaimed, eyes lighting up, “You play too?”</p><p>“Only one song,” Wilbur said shyly, “It’s one by a muggle - Eric Clapton, have you heard of him?” </p><p>Niki shook her head, but gestured for him to continue. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, Wilbur played the chords the way he knew how. </p><p>
  <em> Would you know my name, if I saw you in heaven? </em>
</p><p>It was a bit nerve-wracking, Wilbur realised, to perform in front of another person. </p><p>
  <em> Would it be the same, if I saw you in heaven? </em>
</p><p>His palms were sweating slightly. He looked up; Niki was smiling. </p><p>
  <em> I must be strong, and carry on, ‘cause I know I don’t belong, here in heaven.  </em>
</p><p>There was something special about playing to something other than the door of his bedroom. The feeling that something - no, someone tangible was sitting in front of him, nodding and humming along to his music, spurred him to continue confidently. As he reached the end of the song, the sound of the last chords dying away, Niki clapped. </p><p>“You’re really good,” Niki whispered wistfully, “I wish you’d shown us this earlier.” </p><p>“Will you play for me?” Wilbur asked, handing her the guitar. </p><p>And so they sat on the stone ledge, singing and conversing softly about muggle music. When they’d finally decided to retreat to their dormitories for the night, Wilbur implored Niki not to tell anyone about his secret. </p><p>“There are some things that you care so much about, that you’re not ready to show anyone.” Wilbur continued when Niki opened her mouth to protest. </p><p>Niki’s eyes widened. She seemed to be contemplating something, but chose not to speak of it. Instead, she nodded seriously, and thanked Wilbur for the night. </p><p>Wilbur departed to the Slytherin dormitories feeling like he had conquered the world.</p><p>--</p><p>“There’s no tea here.”</p><p>“Obviously.” Dream replied. He didn’t have to turn around to see who it was that was speaking to him - that annoyingly nonchalant voice coupled with something about tea was enough for him to know that he was speaking to George. </p><p>Dream was staring at the pitchers on the table, that were filled with drinks - Butterbeer, juice, some sort of punch, and water. </p><p>“Which is your favourite?” George persisted, leaning against the table so that Dream was forced to look at him. </p><p>“Probably butterbeer,” said Dream despite himself.</p><p>George smiled. He summoned a glass from the adjacent table and levitated the pitcher of butterbeer over the glass in what was an impressively steady levitating charm. After pouring the drink, he plucked the glass out of the air and handed it to Dream. </p><p>“Look at Moody over there,” George pointed at their Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, who seemed to be interacting with a ministry employee, although his right eye was not focused on the employee - it was whizzing around in its socket. </p><p>“Even <em> he </em> is talking to other people, Dream.”</p><p>“Alright,” Dream spun around, exasperated, “What is it that you <em> want </em> George? You’ve been talking to me about tea the past few weeks, and you <em> always </em>come back after that, even when I ignore you completely. I’ve insulted you-”</p><p>“That you have.”</p><p>“-and told you I dislike you-”</p><p>“Which is not true.”</p><p>“-what on earth do I have to do to <em> make you leave </em>?”</p><p>“You know Technoblade, right?” George’s tone had changed slightly. </p><p>Taken aback by the sudden mention of his former friend, Dream hesitated before nodding. </p><p>“He’s annoyed that you quit the duelling club.”</p><p>Dream winced at the mention of that club. It was an extracurricular activity that, like he did with most of his friends, completely abandoned this year in an attempt to avoid all interaction with the people of his past. </p><p>“He keeps mentioning this match that both of you promised to do this year, with twenty sickles on the line for the winner. What I’m wondering is, why on earth would you quit something that you’re obviously so passionate about?”</p><p>“<em>That </em> is none of your business-” Dream began, but got cut off. </p><p>“And I’ve seen the kind of person you are, Dream, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you surreptitiously glance over at our table to ensure Tubbo is alright. You’re not very subtle, y’know, when he comes down late for breakfast the toast on your plate magically vanishes and appears in his.”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“The other kid, Tommy, is it? The iconic inter-house pair of best friends - other than you and Sapnap, of course. I asked Sapnap and he said that you’d all used to be friends. You care about them, but you don’t allow yourself to.”</p><p>“George, how do you even <em> know </em>all of this?” Dream was slightly amazed.</p><p>“I’m curious about you.” said George, “I told you when we first met.”</p><p>There was an awkward silence when George seemed to have run out of things to say, and Dream couldn’t think of a response. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to give a response.</p><p>“I just wanted to say - well - a lot of people look up to you. Whatever it is you went through, you’re safe here y’know? Hogwarts has loads of protection… and <em> Dumbledore </em>is here for Merlin’s sake, and all the people who care about you.” </p><p>There was a group of students heading towards the table of drinks where Dream and George were standing. Noticing this, George straightened and cleared his throat, levelling Dream with an intense stare. </p><p>“So whatever it is that you want to do, don’t hold back. That’s just - yeah, that’s not a very cool thing to do, is it? And from what I’ve heard, you’re more than capable of being cool.”</p><p>George left the table, disappearing into the crowd. </p><p>At a loss for words, Dream watched as the condensation on his glass dripped onto his wrist, dampening the edge of his sleeve. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>FYI: The Yule Ball in the Harry Potter Universe occurred on Christmas Day, if any of you are wondering :)</p><p>This chapter was kind of rushed... I feel like some of their interactions are a little awkward because I haven't had the energy to look through a couple of times and edit it to make it more natural. I may take a longer time for the next update, because I gave up on something and it keeps coming back to haunt me, and that just killed my inspiration to write. </p><p>As always, thank you so much for reading, and for all the kind comments on previous chapters! :)</p>
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